


The Fourth Closet: An Alternate Future

by whitehandweasel



Series: Five Nights at Freddy's: An Alternate Future (Novel Trilogy) [1]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25872178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitehandweasel/pseuds/whitehandweasel
Summary: The past few months have not been well for John. He had struggled coping with Charlie's death, and it was obvious just by looking at him. When he found out about Charlie's sudden reappearance, he stood by the belief that Charlie was truly dead. Several months later, and the nightmares of his past come back to haunt him. The only thing he could do now is face his fears, or else he will be consumed by the very thing he thought he once defeated long ago...[ Alternate take on Five Nights at Freddy's: The Fourth Closet ]
Series: Five Nights at Freddy's: An Alternate Future (Novel Trilogy) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1881799
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

_"Charlie!"_

_John crawled through the rubble toward the place where she was, choking on some dust. He tripped over a block of concrete, scraping his hands as if they were stripped down with a flint knife. He clenched his teeth, the pain was unbearable. John reached the place where she had been, and he could feel her presence beneath him. He grabbed the block of concrete, mustering all of his strength to lift it up and move it aside._

_"Charlie!" John cried her name again as he shoved another block of concrete away. "I'm coming, Charlie!" He was gasping for breath, moving the remains of the house with desperate strength, but his own strength was running out fast. His hands slipped as he attempted to lift the next block of concrete. He realized his hands left streaks of blood wherever they touched. He wiped his hands on his jeans, clenching his teeth in immense pain, but putting up with it. He tried again, and this time the broken concrete moved. He took several steps back, then dropped it, watching as it crashed into pieces and dust filled the air. Beneath the sounds of broken debris he heard a whisper. "John ..."_

_"Charlie," John's heart stopped beating. Again, the rubble moved underneath his feet. He fell down hard, landing on his back. He struggled to breathe, his lungs failing to work. After a good minute, he began to breathe again. He sat up lightheaded and saw what the collapse had revealed. He was in the hidden room of Charlie's childhood home. Before him was a smooth metal wall. At the center was a door._

_It was only an outline, without any hinges or a handle, but he knew what it was because Charlie told him._

_"... John," she whispered his name again. The sound seemed to come from everywhere—and nowhere. He stood up and put his hands on the door; it was cold. He pressed his face against it just as Charlie had, and it grew colder as if it was draining the warmth from his skin. John pulled back and rubbed the cold spot on his face, watching as the door as the shiny metal began to dull out. Its color paled and the door itself began to thin out, beginning to look like frosted glass. John saw a shadow behind the glass, the figure of a person. The figure stepped closer, the door still thinning out until he could nearly see through it. He moved closer, studying the figure on the other side._

_The figure had a face, sleek and polished, its eyes like a statue's, sculpted but unseeing. John peered through, his breath clouding the near-transparent barrier, then suddenly the eyes snapped open,_ _fixed on nothing. They were dead eyes. Someone laughed, a frantic laugh that echoed in the small and sealed room. John looked around for the source as the laughter grew in pitch, ringing louder and louder. He covered his ears with his bloody hands as the piercing noise became unbearable. "CHARLIE!," he cried out again, this time without response._

* * *

John awakened, his heart racing. The laughter went on, following him out of the dream. His eyes wandered around the room, then landing on the TV, where a clown's painted face filled the screen, laughing. John sat up up, rubbing his cheek—the same one that he pressed against the door in his dream. He checked the time, then he sighed in relief. He had just enough time to get to work. He lied back, taking a moment to catch his breath. On the TV screen, a news interviewer was holding a microphone up for a man dressed up as a clown one would see in a circus, complete with a painted face, and red nose. He was wearing a full yellow clown suit.

"So tell me," the interviewer began with a bright attitude in his voice. "Did you already have this costume, or did you make it exclusively for the grand opening?"

John turned the TV off and went off to take a shower. He got up from the couch, walking towards the hallway. He noted the lack of any real decorations, he never found any interest in putting them up anyway. He walked straight through the hallway, and at the end was the bathroom. He stepped inside, turning on the lights. He closed the door behind him. John looked into the mirror, seeing a young and beaten man. John began to undress himself, placing a towel on the floor next to the shower entrance. He placed his clothes inside the laundry basket inside the closet. He grabbed a washcloth and stepped inside the shower, closing the doors behind him. He turned on the water, and tested it to make sure it wasn't too hot or cold.

He was in the shower for twenty minutes. The last half of it he spent trying to figure out what had happened the other night, neglecting the fact that he could be late for work. He had replayed the scene in his mind over and over again, and yet he still couldn't make heads or tails of it. It had to be an animatronic, but it was one he had never seen before. It was almost human, but not quite. It was eerie to him, perhaps a model in which other animatronics could be built on. The speculation continued in his head for minutes.

Once finished with his shower, he stepped outside, wrapping a towel around himself. After a good minute, he went into his room, putting on a pair of shorts and a tee shirt. After adjusting his clothes, he walked back inside the bathroom, hanging the towel back up. He looked into the mirror, seeing his hair soaking wet while his clothes didn't quite fit him. John decided to ignore it as he turned off the light and walked away.

John stepped back into the living room, rubbing his eyes. He shivered as he walked towards the kitchen. He was starving, and though he kind of wanted to have a fancy breakfast such as eggs or a bagel, he knew that he would be going right to work afterward and there was no time to cook anything. He was late to work once in the past, he would not want to have another strike. He decided to go for making a sandwich. He opened the fridge and got out a slice of bread. Getting a knife from the drawer, he cut the bread in half. He took a few thin slices of ham and put them between the bread slices. He closed the refrigerator door as he walked over to the kitchen, taking a bite out of the sandwich.

John sat down at the table. He looked up at the ceiling—at the spinning fan. He stared at the fan for a while, occasionally taking bites from his sandwich. He was procrastinating, lost in thought once again. He wanted to believe that Charlie was out there. Hell, he _heard_ her voice the other night, yet he also witnessed her get crushed by many springlocks. How she could have survived that was beyond John's understanding.

John took one last bite from sandwich, finishing it. He didn't get up afterward, instead he just lied back down on the couch. He couldn't muster the energy needed to go to get up, and even so, he didn't want to. He scratched his head, very distressed. There were many bad events that have happened over the past few days, but Charlie dying takes the cake.

John, fearing being even more late, got up. He walked over to the counter and grabbed his keys, along with his wallet. He stuffed his wallet inside the pocket to his jeans, and he walked out the door. He closed the door and locked it behind him, putting his keys away and going to his car.

* * *

He had been working all day, but the noise was still unbearable. Rattling, clanging, and other sounds produced by jackhammers and various machinery, along with intermittent shouts. John squeezed his eyes shut to try to drown out the noise, but the vibrations pulsated against his bones. Amid the noise was the desperate sound of laughter, which rang in his ears. The figure from his nightmare came to him again, just out of sight, and he felt as though if he turned his head the right way, he could see the face from behind the door ...

"John!"

John's eyes shot open as he quickly turned around, nearly cracking a bone in the process. Luis was standing a meter away, giving him a confused stare. "I called you three times," he said. John shrugged at the chaos around them.

"Hey, some of the guys over here are going out after this. You coming?" Luis asked.

"I can't," John hesitated.

"Come on, it'll be good for you. All you do now is work and sleep." He laughed and placed a hand over John's shoulder.

"Right, good for _me_." John smiled back, then looked at the ground as his expression began to fade away. "I have so much going on personally, I will have to pass." He tried to sound convincing, though he really just feared talking to anyone he didn't know outside of work.

"Right, lot's going on. Just let me know if you change your mind," Luis said. He patted John over the shoulder again, and headed back to the forklift. It hadn't been the first time John turned them down, not even the third. It occurred to him that they would eventually just stop trying. _'Maybe that would be for the best,_ _'_ John thought.

"John!" another voice shouted.

_'Now what?'_

It was the foreman, shouting at him from the door of his office, a trailer that has been brought onsite for the duration of the construction. John took a hike across the construction zone, going through a vinyl sheet in the trailer's doorway. After a few moments, he found himself standing across a folding table, with the foreman on the other side.

"I've got a few workers telling me you're distracted."

"I'm just focused on my job, that's all," John said, forcing a smile and trying to hide his personal issues. Oliver smiled, not convinced in the slightest.

"Focused," Oliver repeated John's statement. John's smile faded away, startled. Oliver sighed. "Look, I gave you a chance because your cousin said you worked hard. I glossed over the fact that you walked right out of the last job you had. You know I took a risk on you?"

John swallowed hard. "Yes, sir, I know."

"Cut it out with the 'sir'. Just cut the crap and listen to me."

"Look, I do what I'm told. I don't understand the problem."

"Your reactions are slow, you look like you're daydreaming out there. You're not much of a team player these past few days."

"What?"

"Say 'what' again. This is an active construction zone. If you're in la-la land, or you're not thinking of the safety of other workers out there, someone could get hurt, or even worse, end up dead because of your carelessness. I'm not saying you have to share secrets or braid one's hair, I'm saying you have to be on the team. They have to trust that you're not going to let them down when they need you the most." John gave him an understanding nod. "This is a good job, John. I think these are good guys out there, too. Work isn't easy to come by, especially in these days. I need you to get your head out of your ass, and in to the game. Next time I see you in the clouds ... well, just don't put me in that position. Understand?"

"Yeah, I understand," John mumbled. He didn't move, he stood on the brown carpet as if he was waiting to be dismissed from detention.

"Okay. Get out, and go back to work." John walked out. This little talk had taken up the last few minutes of his work day. He helped Sergei put away some of the tools and equipment.

"Well, I guess this is it for today," John mumbled just loud enough for Sergei.

"Hey, have you thought about the offer Luis gave you?" Sergei asked.

"I ..." John waned off, spotting Oliver out of the corner of his eye. "Maybe next time," he said. He knew that there wasn't going to be a 'next time', he was just pushing them back. He knew they'd quit eventually.

"Come on, it's my little excuse to avoid that new kid's place _—_ my daughter's been pressing me to go there for the past week. Lucy is gonna take her, but those robots they have, they creep the life out of me."

John paused, his heart nearly stopping as the world grew silent around him. "What place?," John said in a slightly fearful and angry tone.

"Wow, it's not _that_ terrible. Do you have a problem with kids places or something?," Sergei asked.

John took a few steps backward. "No, and I don't want to talk about it."

"So, you coming?" Sergei asked him again.

"Maybe another time," John said. "What place?" he asked, this time in a much more friendly tone.

"It's called Circus Baby's Pizza World. I honestly don't know how they came up with the name, like Circus... Baby?"

John shrugged. "When I was a kid, they had a place called Freddy Fazbear's Pizza."

"Well, I can see some resemblance there. I mean the robots at the place, they're creepy. Not creepy in any scary form of way, it's just uncanny."

"What do you mean by uncanny?" John asked.

"Like, they look so real, so fluid in their movements. Their speech is so precise, so well done. It's honestly impressive how they got those things to walk around, serve pizza. I mean one of them can even inflate balloons from their fingertips."

John raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's certainly impressive," he said. "What's so creepy about them?"

"Well, they're pretty real. But, not quite real. I think they call it the uncanny valley, but I'm not too sure. Every time I go there, I feel like I'm about to puke."

"Bad atmosphere? I've been there before, trust me," John assured him.

"No, not that. Not smells, those are fine. My ears are always ringing when I'm in there, of course I don't hear it because of all the other noise, but it gives me there horrible headaches."

John's blood froze. For a moment, time stopped. His mind flashed back to his experience with the "twisted" animatronics weeks earlier. He recalled how the illusion discs present in those animatronics caused him to see things that weren't there. Perhaps, modifying the look of the animatronics. When he was exposed to these discs, he had a very similar experience to what Sergei stated.

John came back to reality when Sergei was right in his face. "You alright? It looks like you just saw a ghost," he said worriedly.

"I'm ... fine. I just need to go home," John said. He turned around and bolted to his car, not even turning back. He wanted to get out of the construction zone as quickly as possible, and go home. The car was a old and brownish-red, something that might have been cool back in middle school or high school. _'Wait, I can't even have a car in middle school,'_ John remarked in his head, embarrassed. Now it was just a reminder that he was still a kid that hasn't moved on with life, a mark of status that had become a mark of shame in less than a year. He opened the door and sat inside. His hands were shaking. "Get a grip." He closed his eyes and clutched the wheel, trying to limit his movements. "This is life, you can deal with it," he tried to motivate himself. He then opened his eyes and sighed. "That's probably something lame my dad would've said." He turned the key, and changed the gears of the car. He turned to his left, realizing he hadn't closed the car door. He closed it, and looked to the road. He backed his car out of the "parking lot", if it could even be called one. He turned to the road, and drove away.

The drive home should have been ten minutes, but the route he took was more like a half an hour, as if he avoided going through town. If he didn't go through town, he wouldn't run into anyone he didn't want to chat with. _'Be a team player.'_ He couldn't muster any practical resentment toward Oliver. He wasn't a team player, not anymore. For the past few months, he'd been coming and going from home to work like a train on a track, stopping to buy food and other items now and then. He only spoke when needed, no eye contact of any sort. He was always startled when people talked to him, whether they were coworkers, or strangers asking the time. He made conversation, but he was better at speaking while walking away. He was always polite, while also making it clear he had places to go. Sometimes he felt like he was fading away, and it was jarring and disappointing, to be reminded that he could still be seen by others.

He pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex, a two story building not really meant for long term tenants as concluded from its size. The apartment complex itself was very similar to Jessica's, and he wondered if they were built by the same team. There was a light in the window of the manager's office on the second floor. He had tried for a month to keep track of the hours they were open, but concluded that there was no pattern to it at all.

He grabbed an envelope from the glove compartment _—_ a check for his rent. He walked towards the door and knocked. There was no response, though there were sounds of footsteps inside. After a second knock, the door opened partially. An old woman with the skin of a long time smoker peered out at him. "Hey, Delia." John smiled, but she did not smile back. "Rent check." John handed the envelope to her. "I know it's late. I came here the other day but nobody was here."

"Was it during business hours?" Delia peered into the envelope suspiciously, as if she was expecting something other than a check inside.

"The lights were off, so ..."

"Then it wasn't during business hours." Delia bared her teeth, but it wasn't much of a smile. John knew she had tried to smile. "I saw you hung up a plant," she said out of the blue.

"Oh yeah." John looked out the window toward his apartment, as though he may be able the plant from where he stood. Of course, no dice. "It's nice to take care of something." He tried to smile again, but he quickly gave up. "That's allowed, right?"

"Yes, you can have a plant." Delia took a step back inside and looked prepared to close the door. "People don't usually settle in here, that's all. Usually there's a house, then a wife, and then the plant."

"Right." John looked down at his work out shoes. "It's just been a rough year for me, and especially my family," he said as the door closed in front of him. He sighed, and then he headed to his apartment at the side of the complex, now his own for yet another month. It was a single bedroom studio apartment with a full bath and a small kitchen. He kept the blinds up while he was away, to show he had nothing. The area was prone to theft, and it seemed a good idea to show there was nothing to steal.

Once inside, John locked the door and carefully slid the chain in place, trying not to snap it. These chains themselves were not very tough, and it certainly wasn't comforting to him that the only thing between him and a burglary was a weak old chain that could easily break. He wondered why he even bothers. The apartment itself was cold and dark, and really quiet. His headache was still there, but he has been getting used to them. He always wondered why he couldn't just get some imitrex tablets, since they haven't costed much, especially considering how sparsely populated the area was.

The place itself was barely furnished. The only thing that he added to it was four cardboard boxes full of books. He glanced at them with a familiarity, having read almost all of them. He walked over to his bedroom and sat down on the bed, the springs creaking slightly. He didn't bother turning on the light, since there was enough daylight coming out from the window.

John looked toward his dresser, where a familiar face looked back at him _—_ a toy rabbit's head. Its body was nowhere to be found.

"What did you do today?" John said, looking into the plush rabbit's eyes as if it might recognize him. Theodore just stared back blankly, his eyes lifeless and dark. "You look terrible _—_ worse than me." He stood up and approached the rabbit, grabbing it by the ears. _'Time to throw you away.'_ He considered it every day. He clenched his jaw, not wanting to look at it anymore. It reminded him of Charlie.

John wanted to forget Charlie. While there was still a shimmer of hope that she was out there, he felt almost hopeless to it. He felt empty many times. He would mindlessly walk miles of road until late at night, returning home and trying to read, or just staring at the wall for hours. The familiarity was annoying for him.

He grabbed his pillow and walked back to the living room. He lied down on the couch, swinging his legs over the arm so that he could fit inside the small couch. The silence in his apartment made his ears ring. He grabbed the remote on the floor and turned on the TV. The screen was black and white, the reception was terrible. He could barely make out faces through the static, but the chatter of a talk show was rapid and charming. He turned down the volume low, and dozed off.


	2. Chapter 2

_Her arm was limp, the only part of her visible from the twisted metal suit. Blood ran down her skin, pooling on the ground. He could hear her voice if he tried. "Don't let go! John!" she cried out. And then that thing_ — _He shuddered, hearing again the sound of the animatronic suit snapping. He stared at her lifeless arm, whilst hearing screams of agony. The world around him vanished, and the crunching sounds were her bones. The tearing was everything else._

John bolted awake. A few feet away, a studio audience laughed, and he looked at the TV, its static and chatter bringing him back to waking life. He sat up. His back was cramped, his head ached, he was exhausted yet restless. He walked outside, locking the door behind him, and breathing in the nightly air.

He began walking down the road, heading toward town and what might still be open. The lights on the road were far apart, and of course there was no sidewalk. Very few cars passed him. He had begun to notice himself getting ever so closer to the road as he walked, playing a halfhearted game of chicken. When he found himself too far out, he would go back to the shoulder, and he would be disappointed in himself for doing so.

As he approached town, lights filled the darkness once again, and he shielded his eyes as a car approached. He took a step back from the road, but this car slowed down, coming to a stop. The driver's window rolled down.

"John?" someone called. The car went in reverse and pulled onto the shoulder, John jumped out of its path. A woman walked out and took a few steps toward him as if to hug him, but he stayed. "John, it's me!" Jessica said with a smile that quickly faded away. "What are you doing out here?" She was wearing short sleeves, glancing back and forth at the deserted road.

"Well, I could ask you the same thing," he answered as if she had accused him of something.

"Gas." She smiled at him, and he couldn't help but smile back too. He had almost forgotten this ability of hers, to turn on cheerful goodwill like a faucet, splashing it over everyone. "How have you been?"

"Fine, working mostly." He lied, of course. He had not been fine. Ever since Charlie vanished, his life has been miserable. "What's new with you?" he asked. He then realized how stupid this conversation must have seemed to other drivers. "I really have to get going. Have a good night." He turned and began to walk away without even giving her a chance to speak.

"I miss seeing you around," Jessica called out. "And so does she."

John stopped. He began to slowly turn around to eye Jessica. "Who?"

"Well, Charlie of course. Who else would it be?"

John looked around the road, as if he was anticipating cars to drive by. After a few moments, he gave up trying. "Charlie's dead," John said. He finally accepted the reality. "If you're trying to make me accept that she is dead, she is. Now, could you please go away? I'm exhausted and I need some sleep."

Jessica let out a audible sigh. "I'm not going to walk away from you, we both know that," Jessica began. "Charlie isn't dead. I talked with her the other day. She said she got treated at the hospital, so we can talk with her tomorrow. She's asleep right now, so not today."

John shook his head. "Charlie's dead. Seriously, you saw her bleed to death right? You heard her bones get crushed? There is no chance she could have survived that. I doubt even a metal endoskeleton could survive that."

Jessica shrugged. "I saw her. She was upset, like you couldn't imagine how upset she was that you practically abandoned her. She misses you, she misses you a lot."

John rubbed his eye, even more of a sign that he was tired. "Look, I know what this is," he started. "You just want me over, so you're using Charlie as bait to do so. You're not tricking me," he said. He then turned around, and began his trek back home.

"John, at least talk to _me_."

He didn't answer.

"You're _hurting_ her," she added. He stopped walking. "Don't you understand what you're doing to her? After what she went through? She was in the hospital for weeks, in pain. It's insane, John. I don't know what that night did to you, but I know what it did to Charlie. And you know what? I don't think anything hurt as badly as having you refuse to speak to her. To say that she's _dead_."

"I saw her die." John stared into the darkness.

"No, you did not. Look, I'm worried about you."

"I'm just lost." John turned to her. "And after what I've been through, after what we've been through, that's not an unreasonable reaction." He waited for her to respond, and then looked away.

"I get it, I really do. I thought she was dead too." John opened his mouth to speak, but Jessica pressed on. "I thought she was dead until she turned up, _alive_." Jessica pulled at John's shoulder. "I've talked to her. It is her. And this ... this thing that you're doing, that's what's killing her."

"It's not her," he whispered.

"Okay," Jessica said. She turned and walked back to the car, clearly done with him. She went into the car and pulled back onto the road. John stayed where he was. "We're meeting at Clay's house on Saturday," she said tiredly. "Please." He looked at her, her face was red and her eyes were shiny. She wasn't crying.

"Maybe."

"Good enough for me. See you there," she said as she drove off.

"I said maybe," he muttered into the darkness. John then walked away, back to his apartment.


	3. Chapter 3

The man at the desk carefully filled out a form in front of him. He paused suddenly, a wave of dizziness hitting his head. The letters on the page were fuzzy, and he adjusted his reading glasses. They made no difference, and he rubbed his eyes. Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the sensation was gone. The words on the page were perfectly clear. A ring sounded and the front door opened.

"Yes?" he asked without looking up.

"I wanted to have a look around the yard." A woman's voice echoed softly.

"Scrap if fifty cents a pound. It might me more if you find a specific part, but we can see when you come back in. You have to bring your own tools, but we can help you load it up when you're ready to leave."

"Well, I am looking for something specific." The woman peered down at him, observing his name tag. "Bob," she added.

"Well, I don't know what to tell you. It's a dump." He laughed. "We try to at least separate the junk cars from the tin cans, but what you see is what you get."

"Bob, you received several truckloads of scrap metal on this date, from this location." The woman placed a sheet of paper down. Bob picked it up and adjusted his glasses, then looked at her.

"As I said, it's a dump. I might be able to point you in the right direction, I mean we don't catalog the stuff."

The woman walked around the side of the desk, stepping up beside Bob's chair. "I hear you boys had some trouble here last night."

"No trouble." Bob furrowed his brows. "Some kids snuck in, it happens."

"That's not what I heard." The woman studied the picture on the wall. "Your daughters?" she asked lightly.

"Yes, two and five."

"They are beautiful. Do you treat them well?"

Bob straightened himself up. "Of course I do," he said. The woman tilted her head, still looking at it.

"I heard you called the police because you thought someone was trapped in the scrap out there," she said. Bob didn't answer. "Well, I heard that you thought you heard screaming, and sounds of panic. Something was trapped, a child, as you thought. Maybe several."

"Look, we run a clean business and we have a good reputation."

"I'm not disputing your reputation. On the contrary, I think what you did was honorable, running to the rescue in the middle of the night, cutting your legs on jagged scraps of metal."

"How did you..." Bob's voice started to whimper.

"What did you find?"

He didn't answer.

"What was there?" she pressed. "When you got on your hands and knees and crawled through the beams and the wire? What was there?"

"Nothing," he whispered. "Nothing was there."

"And the police? They found nothing?"

"No, nothing. There wasn't anything. I went out again today just to be ..." he paused. "Look, we run a good business," he said firmly.

"You're not in any trouble, Bob, as long as you can do me one little favor."

"What's that?"

"Simple." The woman leaned over Bob, bracing herself on the arms of his chair. "Take me there."

* * *

John pulled into the parking lot at the construction site and immediately saw Oliver standing in front of the gate of the fence. His arms were crossed, and he was chewing on something. His face was grim, as if he was expecting John. When it was clear he wouldn't move out of the way, John slowed down to a stop and got out.

"What's going on?" he asked. Oliver continued to chew his gum.

"I have to let you go," he said at last, as if this was what he has been waiting for. "You're late again."

"I'm not late," John protested. "At least not by much. Look, it won't happen again, I'm sorry."

"Me too," Oliver said. "Good luck, John."

"Oliver!" John called out.

"Look, it's not just about you being late. It would have happened even if you were on time."

"What do you mean?" John asked.

"Clearly something else has been on your mind. We need workers that are fully engaged, not people that are walking around in wonderland. I'm sorry, but it is what it is."

John sighed. Oliver walked away, not even glancing back. John leaned against his car for a moment. Several coworkers were staring at him, suddenly turning away as John noticed them. He cursed under his breath. He got back in his car, and drove back home.

When he returned to his apartment, John sat down on the edge of his bed and buried his face in his hands. "Now what?" he wondered aloud. He glanced around his room, and his eyes focused on the only decoration in the room. "You still look terrible," he said to Theodore's severed head. "And you're in a much worse shape than me. I still have my body." The thought of attending a party that night suddenly came to him. _'I thought she was dead, too,'_ Jessica had said the night before.

John closed his eyes. _'What if it is her?'_ He saw it again, the moment he always saw. The snapping suit, Charlie trapped in it as her bones crunched, and her screaming in unbearable agony. _'She couldn't have survived it'_ he concluded. But then, another image came to mind. Dave, who became Springtrap, he had survived what happened to Charlie. He wore the suit like a second layer of skin, and he paid the price for it. For an instant, John pictured Charlie, scarred and broken, yet, alive. "But that doesn't sound like the person Jessica saw," John spoke clearly to Theodore. "Someone broken and scarred, that's not who Jessica was describing. That's not who I saw at the diner."

John shivered. "What am I even going to tell my friends? That I ran away from them so that I could let work take over my sad little life?" He looked up at Theodore. Theodore stared at him blankly. "Damn," he said.

* * *

John raised his hand to ring the bell of Clay's house, then hesitated. Before he could decide, the door swung open in front of him. John blinked at the sudden light and found himself right before Clay Burke, who seemed as startled as John.

"John!" Clay wrapped his arms around John, then quickly pushed him back after a few seconds. "Come in!" Clay stepped back to clear the way, and John followed him in, looking around cautiously.

"So, is Betty..."

"Yeah, she's still gone," Clay said. "I wish she'd come back, but life still goes on." John nodded, uncertain of what to say in response.

"John!" Marla waved at him from the stairs, she ran down them carelessly. As soon as she got down, she wrapped her arms around him before he could even say hello. Jessica appeared too, coming from the kitchen.

"Hey John," Jessica said calmly with a glowing smile.

"I'm so glad to see you again, it's been so long," Marla said, releasing him.

"Yeah, too long." He tried to think of something else to say, and Marla and Jessica just exchanged glances. Carlton ran down the staircase too.

"Carlton!" John called with his first genuine smile of the evening. Carlton waved and came to join the group.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," John mirrored him.

"I'm surprised you came." Marla slapped him across the shoulder.

"Of course he was gonna come!" Carlton corrected. "I just know you've been busy! Too much girlfriends, right?"

John sighed. "Nope, and not anymore. Got fired."

"Why?" Jessica asked.

"Well, I was late. I have _you_ to thank for that," John said.

Jessica sighed. "I'm sorry, but at least we're together."

Marla jumped in. "I'm in college. Ohio."

"That's great." John smiled.

"It's been a lot of hard work, but it was worth it," Marla said. John began to relax, falling back into the familiar pattern of their friendships. Marla was still Marla.

"Is Lamar around?" Carlton asked.

Marla shook her head. "He said he isn't setting foot in this town again."

John leaned against the wall. "Have you seen her?" he asked, looking at Carlton.

Carlton shook his head. "My plane got here today. She'll be here tonight. Jessica says she looks good."

"Right," John said. They all stared at him as if they understood his concerns.

"John, come help me in the kitchen!" Clay called, and John broke away from the group, relieved. _'Saved by the bell.'_

"What's up?" he asked. Clay leaned back against the sink.

"I just want to make sure you're alright out there."

"What do you mean?"

"I thought you might be anxious. It's been a long time since you and Charlie talked."

"It's been a while since _we_ talked," John said.

"That's different, and you know that very well."

"Well, yeah. I just don't understand how she could have survived being crushed by a springlock suit."

"William Afton survived it. Charlie could have as well."

John sighed. "Look, could we talk somewhere else?"

The others in the living room stopped talking, and they focused on John and Clay. John furrowed his brows.

"Yeah," Clay said. He walked upstairs with John, up to his room. Clay closed the door behind them, and the room itself was silent, say for the ceiling fan spinning around.

"You should turn that off. It'll save power," John pointed out.

"It keeps it cool in here without me having to use the air conditioner. It helps me sleep. It's not much more money anyways."

"Oh," John said, then nodding. "Well, I wanted to talk about Charlie."

"Go right ahead," Clay said.

"Jessica described Charlie as looking... well, beautiful. When I saw William Afton, he looked horrible. I just don't know."

"Well, do you think Jessica would describe Charlie as looking horrible? No, because that's rude."

"Have you seen her?," John asked sincerely.

"I have, I mean I didn't get to see her half-naked so I didn't see any sort of harm done to her."

"Clay, please."

"You are in doubt. Jessica was in doubt too, trust me. Maybe you will change when you see her."

"Hopefully," John added.

"John, it looks like there's something on your mind. Something that doesn't have anything to do with Charlie."

"What do you mean?" John asked. He suddenly felt as if he was being interrogated.

"You've been stressed out and anxious ever since you got here. Jessica told me about what you did last night, too."

"I got fired from my job! Don't you think that is stressful?"

"Well, life sucks. You get a new job, it's not the end of the world."

John sighed. "I was highly qualified for it, and then they just dropped everything."

"I'm sorry. I mean, there isn't much I can do about it except help you find another job."

"Well, thanks for the offer but I'm alright." John looked out the window, and he saw a car roll into the driveway. It was a car that he very much knew. "Clay."

Clay walked over to John, looking out the window. "Oh, there's Charlie. Stay here," Clay said as he walked over to his dresser and produced a comb. He then went through John's hair, straightening it out.

"What are you doing?"

"Don't you at least want to look good?" Clay asked.

"I mean, it doesn't really matter. She's Charlie, my best friend." John was almost ashamed of admitting this, but Charlie was his closest friend for the longest time, until a few months ago.

Clay's eyes darted up as he let out a sigh. "Well, you should care. Your friends might hold you to a much lower standard than before. They might distance themselves from you. Just, at least give it an effort," Clay said. The sound of a doorbell ringing startled John, but Clay didn't seem to be fazed by it at all. "Well, let's come come on down and give your old friend a warm welcome," Clay said, smiling.

John forced a smile, but Clay very well knew it wasn't genuine. He turned around and faced the door, but Clay stopped him.

"Please don't give her a hard time. She's been through a lot."

John nodded. "I promise I won't." He opened the door and walked out, he then walked down the stairs at a slow pace. Carlton opened the door to the outside, and Charlie stood outside it.

"Carlton!" Charlie said with a big smile on her face as she wrapped her arms around Carlton's, carefree, Carlton would do the same.

John reached the bottom of the stairs. He walked toward the group, and he then looked at Charlie and Carlton. Charlie would look at John too.

"John?" she asked. Charlie let go of Carlton as she walked towards John, not exactly giving him the same treatment as Carlton. "Hey John," she said almost nervously.

"Hey." John had already ran out of words to say. "Well, how are you?"

"Pretty good. How about you?"

"Unemployed. I got fired for being late by a few minutes."

"What's with the whole doom and gloom? What happened to your optimism?"

John sighed. "It went away ever since you, well got trapped in that suit."

"That suit was a total pain to get out of. I was really surprised I was able to get out of it, and then I went to the hospital for a few weeks."

John rolled his eyes. "I thought you were against going to the hospital?"

"Didn't really have much of a choice anyway. There was somebody there who got an ambulance, I think his name was Bob or something. He worked at the scrap yard."

"Oh, well I see."

"Well, is there anything that happened to you that was _good_?"

"Nope, nope nope nope," John said. "My life is all around terrible, and you probably notice it right away."

"You look pretty good," Charlie said, clearly lying to him. "As for me, I'm getting back into college. I spent an entire week catching up on work."

"Well, life sucks. For all of us."

Marla stepped into the group, smiling. "Hey Charlie. I see you're getting along with John. I told you he'd be fine."

Charlie straightened herself out. "Thanks for coming by the way," Charlie said. Her face was anxious, her arms wrapped tightly across her body like she was cold, despite the mild weather.

"I was just going to get my jacket," John said, trying to sound casual in the midst of an obvious lie, and she didn't move, as if she knew what he was doing, and why. _'It's not her._ She looked like some stunning cousin of Charlie's, maybe, but not her. Not the round faced girl he had known for his entire life. Her face was uncannily different, though he couldn't explain how. He took a step back. _'How could anyone think that's her?'_ he thought.

She bit her lip. "John, say something."

"I don't know what to say," he admitted.

She uncrossed her arms as she realized she was holding them that way for too long. "I'm so happy to see you," she said as if she was about to cry.

"Me too," John said.

"I missed you," she began. "I had to get away for a while," she went on uncertainly. "That night, John, I thought I was going to die."

"I thought you did," he said, swallowing hard.

She paused. "You don't think I'm myself?" she said at last.

He looked down at his feet, unable to say it to her face.

"Jessica told me. I just want you to know it's okay." Her eyes were bright, full of tears. In an instant, the world went into a different focus.

The differences in Charlie were suddenly things that seemed so easily explained. Her shoes had heels, so she was taller. She was wearing a fitting dress instead of the usual jeans and T-shirt, so she seemed thinner. ' _We all had to grow up eventually,_ ' John thought.

John thought of the way he drove home from work, or had been, until this morning. He avoided ever driving past Charlie's house, or Freddy's. Maybe Charlie had things she wanted to avoid too.

 _'Maybe she wanted to change, like you did. When you think of that moment, what it did to you... what must it have done to her? What kind of nightmares do you have, Charlie?'_ He wanted to ask her this, and for the first time, he allowed himself to look her in the eyes. His stomach churned as he did, his heart racing. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, but he remained firm. _'Those aren't her eyes.'_

"Charlie," John began. "Do you remember the last thing I said to you, before you were trapped in that suit?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry John," she said. "I don't remember a lot about that night, whole pieces are just missing. I remember being in the suit, I passed out, I think for hours"

"Did it hurt?" John asked.

She nodded silently, her eyes again filling with tears, this time she didn't look cold, she looked like she was in pain. John just stared. _'That's not her.'_

"John, would you meet me tomorrow?" she asked.

"Why?" he asked almost instinctively.

"I just want to talk. Give me a chance." Her voice rose, shakingly.

He nodded. "Sure. Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow." He paused. "That same place, okay?" he added carefully, waiting to see how she would reply.

"The restaurant at St. George? Our first date?" she said easily and gave him a smile. "Around six?"

John let out a deep breath. "Yeah." He met her eyes again and did not look away from them. She looked at him motionless, as if she was afraid she might scare him away.

"So you're going?" Jessica asked. John nodded.

"Yeah. I have to find another place to work, plus it's late."

"Come on, can't you stay a little longer?" Charlie pleaded him.

John sighed. "I'm sorry." He turned around, and left without another word. He walked back to his car. He felt he did something wonderful, while also feeling like he has made a horrible mistake. As he drove through the darkness, he pictured her face again.

_'Those weren't her eyes'._

* * *

Charlie was sitting outside the house. She did not want to be inside the house. It was too noisy for her liking, and considering John's departure, she simply did not want to come back.

"Charlie? Are you okay?" Jessica asked softly, appearing beside her on the sidewalk. Charlie nodded.

"I didn't hear you come over."

"He doesn't mean to hurt you. He's just—"

"Traumatized," Charlie interrupted. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude," she said as she shook her head.

"I know," Jessica said, closing her eyes. She could remember that night in vivid detail. Charlie shivered, and felt Jessica's hand touch her shoulder. She opened her eyes, looking helplessly at her friend.

"Charlie, you need to relax. You've been stressed out and upset ever since you got back a few weeks ago."

"Well, it's not like I can help it."

"I think he just needs time."

"How much time can he need?" she asked, and the words hit her harder than a bullet.


	4. Chapter 4

"It's ready." A soft voice rang out in the dark.

"I'll tell you when it's ready," said The man, studying a monitor. "Raise it a few more degrees."

"You said before that it might be too much," she said from the opposite corner. She carefully examined what lay before her.

"Do it." The woman touched a dial, then sprung back.

'What is it?" he demanded. He didn't take his eyes off the monitor. "Raise it two more degrees," he ordered. The man finally turned to the table. "Is there a problem?"

"I think it's ..."

"What?"

"Moving," she finished.

"Of course it is. Of course, _they_ are."

"It looks like it's ... in pain?" she whispered. The man smiled.

"Yes."

A bright light flashed on abruptly as sudden noise echoed from the center of the room. A cheerful voice erupted from the speakers coming from that _thing_.

Every light shone down on him. The sleek white and purple bear. His joints clicked with every pivot, his eyes jolted back and forth randomly. He stood about six feet high, his rosy cheeks like balls of bright cotton candy, and he held a microphone.

"Shut that thing off!" The man shouted, getting to his feet. He moved slowly to the center of the room, leaning heavily on his cae. "Get back, I'll do it myself!" he screamed as the woman retreated. With his cane, he pried off a white plastic plate off the singing bear, and reached his hand inside. Grabbing on to some wires, he yanked hard. In a pinch, the bear's eyes lost their glow, eventually closing.

"Now," the man began. "This will be given a greater purpose. I will need some subjects, of course."

"On it," the woman said. In an instant, the woman exited the room.

"I knew I could count on you. They will become _more_ just like you did. An accident that paved the way for a better future."

* * *

John walked inside his apartment, locking the door behind him. He looked around, between the couch, and the windows. There was an unfamiliar whirring sound coming from. He stepped into his room, and the sound seemed to be more intense. He scanned the room, determined to find the source. He flipped on his light, and he found himself focusing on Theodore.

"Are you doing that?" he asked.

John approached the disjointed rabbit head cautiously. The noise was louder. He grabbed Theodore's head, and put it against his ear. It was just static. After a loud click, the noise stopped. Sighing, John put Theodore back on the dresser.

"I'm not crazy," John said to the rabbit. "And I won't let you, or anyone else tell me I am." He reached under his bed, grabbing a plain composition notebook he had left untouched for more than three months.

"I know what I saw," he spoke to the rabbit again. "I'm not crazy."

He opened the first page. It was filled with nothing but facts and statistics about Charlie. He knew her father, but not her mother. Her brother was still a mystery to him. He had written out their childhood in Hurricane, then the tragedy at Freddy's, then her father's suicide. She had moved with her aunt Jen after that. As he wrote that down, John realized he had no idea where Charlie and Jen lives. Close enough to Hurricane that she had driven rather than flown, nearly two years ago, but it seemed odd that she never even mentioned the name of the town she has been living in. _'She hasn't really mentioned anything at all.'_

In the later pages, he had tried to capture everything about her. The way she moved, spoke. It was hard. There was the way she walked, self assured until she realized someone was looking at her. There was the way she sometimes seemed to sink into herself as if there was another reality going on inside her head. He sighed. _'How do you check for that?'_

He flipped over the notebook. He had started a different set of thoughts on the back.

_'What happened to Charlie?'_

If the woman at Carlton's party, the woman who had appeared in the diner, was not Charlie, then who was she?

The most obvious answer would be her twin. Sammy could be a shortened version of Samantha, a girl's name. But then again, it could just be a nickname for Sam. Charlie had vivid memories of Sammy being kidnapped, but not killed. What if Charlie's twin was not only kidnapped by William Afton, but raised by him? What if she had been shaped and molded by a psychopath for seventeen years, primed with all of the knowledge Springtrap could gain from Charlie's life?

"No," he shook his head. What would Springtrap have to gain from that? It just didn't make sense to him. He yawned, and as he drifted asleep, he heard the static coming from Theodore's speakers.

The next day, John woke up late and was filled with dread. Looking at the clock, he realized in panic that he was late for work, and seconds later he realized there was no work, a reality that will have severe consequences soon enough, but not today. All he had to do was meet Charlie. The dread swelled in him as he thought of it, and sighed.

Later that day, as he dug through his dresser for a presentable shirt, someone knocked at the door. John glanced at Theodore.

"Who?" John whispered to the rabbit. There was no answer. John went to the door, through the front window he saw Clay Burke standing outside, facing the door. John slid the chain off the latch, then opened the door wide.

"Clay, hey. Come in." Clay hesitated, glancing at the interior that was too sparse to be a mess. John shrugged. The noise from Theodore's head started again, but John chose to ignore it.

"What is that?" Clay asked after a few seconds.

"It's the rabbit head." John smiled.

"Right, of course." Clay looked toward the dresser, then back at John as if there was nothing out of the ordinary.

"So, what can I do for you?" John asked.

"I wanted to see how you were doing."

"Really? Didn't we have that talk yesterday?" He grabbed a clean shirt from the dresser and went into the bathroom to change.

"You could never be too sure," Clay said. John turned on the faucet. "John, what do you know about Charlie's aunt Jen?"

John turned the faucet off quickly. "What did you say?"

"What do you know about Charlie's aunt Jen?"

"Well, I never really knew her. I helped her move some things out of the old house, but that was pretty much the closest I got to knowing her personally."

Clay blinked for a moment. "Well, Charlie was very eager to see you when I mentioned that you saw Jen that night," he said, seeming to choose his words carefully.

"Why would Charlie care if I saw Jen or not? For that matter, why do you?"

"It just made me realize that there's a lot we don't know about that night," Clay said. "I hope your conversation tonight with Charlie can help fill in those gaps."

"You want me to interrogate her?" he laughed. Clay sighed.

"No, that's not what I'm asking, John. All I'm saying is that if Charlie's aunt was there that night, I'd like to ask her a few questions."

John grabbed a pair of socks and put them over the bed. "Why are you suddenly coming to me, anyway?"

"It's what we found at the compound," Clay answered.

"You mean the house belonging to Charlie's father?"

"I think we both know it was more than just a house," he said. John shrugged and said nothing. "Many of the things down there didn't mean much, but some of the things I saw down there were scary."

"What do you mean, scary?"

"I'm not sure how to describe it," he said. John shook his head."I'm not ready to close the book on this Dave/William Afton/whatever he was calling himself."

"Springtrap," John whispered.

"I'm not ready to close the book on that case."

"You think he's still alive?"

"I just think we can't make any assumptions."

John sighed. "What do you want me to ask her?"

"Just get her to talk to you. It's been nice having her back, but it seems she is holding something away. It's like she's—"

"Not herself?"

"No. I think there's something she hasn't told us."

"And she might be comfortable talking to me about it?"

"Maybe."

"Well, that seems too much of a long shot." The whirring noise started again. "See, Theodore agrees with me."

"Does it always do that?" Clay asked.

The rabbit seemed to make a distorted murmur, at times it seemed like words came out.

"I've never seen it do that before," John said. Clay bent over the dresser to study Theodore. John turned to Clay. "I need to go soon. I don't want to be late."

"Don't you need to lock this?"

"It doesn't matter," John said.

* * *

There was still light out when John got to St. George, and when he looked at his dashboard clock, he noticed he was more than an ten minutes early. He parked in the lot anyway, and got out. He had avoided St. George, the down where Charlie and Jessica had been in college. He walked past a few storefronts, heading to the movie theater he had been with Charlie the last time. _'Maybe we can see a movie. After dinner and interrogation.'_ John stopped short on the sidewalk. The theater was gone. Instead, two gigantic clown faces grinned at him from the windows of the new restaurant. The faces were almost as large as the wide front door. The was a large sign in the center of it. Circus Baby's Pizza.

John stood motionless, feeling like his shoes were fused to the ground. He decided he had no choice but to go inside. He pushed open the front door. It opened into an empty waiting area. Smaller versions of the clowns out front smiled crazily from the walls. There was a familiar smell in the air: some combination of pizza and rubber.

John opened the second door, and the noise exploded. He blinked in the fluorescent lights, bewildered. Children were everywhere, screaming and laughing, and running around. There were play structures, something like a jungle gym to his left, and a large ball pit to his right.

There were tables set up in the center of the room, where he noticed five or six adults talking to each other. He started toward the stage, twice stopping just in time to avoid tripping over a game of tag.

"Excuse me, sir," a man's voice came from behind him, and John straightened like he'd touched a hot stove.

"Sorry," he said, turning to see a man wearing a yellow polo shirt and a tense expression.

"Are you here with your children, sir?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. The man was wearing a name tag that read "Steve".

John paused. "Yes, several children. Birthday party, you know. Cousins, so many cousins, what can you do?"

Steve was still looking at him, unfazed.

"I have to go meet someone, somewhere else," John said. Steve gestured to the door. John stepped exited the building. John's heart nearly stopped when he saw Charlie right in front of him. Charlie has a frustrated and disappointed expression, but it quickly turned to a smile.

"Hey John," Charlie said, her eyes seemingly lighting up the dark area around the lot.

"Hey Charlie. Sorry, I just had to check this place out. A coworker told me about this place before I was well, fired."

Charlie shook her head, sighing. "You shouldn't go places without me."

"They apparently converted the movie theater into that kids place you see over there. I was wondering what was so special and appealing about it that they had to get rid of the theater."

Jessica pulled at her long hair. "The theater wasn't that good anyway. The only movie we ever saw here was that Zombies vs Zombies film, which was quite cheesy."

John nodded in agreement. He then tilted his head, wondering why she needed to say the name of it. He eventually shrugged it off. He walked over to the door of the restaurant. "Well, ladies first."

Charlie walked in, and was soon followed by John. While the place had mostly lost its homey feel to it, it was still the same restaurant. Nothing really changed except for the orange lights being replaced with white LED lights. John walked over to the front desk, where a person wearing a blue outfit was seated. The man wore a name tag, _Anthony._ "Hey, I'd like a table for me and a friend," John said, smiling nervously.

Anthony glanced at his computer monitor, then looked back at the two. "Is there a specific table you would like?"

John looked over his shoulder, looking at Charlie. She gave him a shrug.

"Anything next to a window is good for me," Charlie said.

Anthony typed something on his keyboard, and then he looked back at the two, nodding and smiling. "Follow me then." He walked over to a table on the left side of the restaurant near a window, gesturing Charlie and John to sit down.

"Thank you," John said. Anthony nodded and smiled.

"If there's anything you need, you know where to find me." With that, Anthony walked away from them, and toward the front desk where someone stood patiently, presumably looking for a table as well.

"A lot of people today."

Charlie rested her arm on the table. "Well, it _is_ a Sunday night. Of course there's going to be a lot of people." She rested his head against the seat, then feeling a soft thump from that same place.

"Ow," a voice complained from behind him. She turned around, realizing she bumped into someone's head when she tried to rest her head.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were there," Charlie apologized. There was an elderly woman and an old man sitting at that table.

"It's all fine. You're young, of course. You have a lot to learn until you reach my age," the elderly woman said. She then turned around and continued eating. Charlie turned around.

"What did she mean by _that_?" Charlie asked confusedly.

John sat up. "It's not very polite to do that."

Charlie tilted his head. "Bump someone's head?"

"Yes, but that's not what I meant. I meant resting your head like that, because these seats aren't very high."

"Oh," Charlie realized his mistake.

"Yeah, life is strange. You should probably just sit up."

Charlie nodded, sitting up. Strangely, she was actually pretty comfortable sitting like this, though usually she was not unless she was sitting on a stool. "So, what do you want to have?" Charlie asked.

"Well, you were the one that was trapped in a springlock suit for hours. I think I should be asking what _you_ want," John said.

"Well, that makes sense. I'll just pass."

John raised an eyebrow. "You'll _pass_? You know that this dinner is about, well you."

"Well I'm not really in the mood for anything right now. Look, just don't worry about me."

"Okay," John said. He turned to his left, looking out the window. Cars zoomed by on the road. It felt strange to him that he was the only one that was going to be eating. He decided to press Charlie on some more. "Come on, don't you at least want _something_?"

"I'm full. Sorry, I don't want my stomach to explode."

John sighed in disbelief. "Whatever you say."

Charlie smiled. "Well, I miss this."

He nodded. "Me too. You know, I didn't leave because of you. I just had to get away from everything. I—"

"Are you two ready to order?" the waitress asked. John looked over at her and cleared his throat. Charlie looked at the menu, but the pictures of the food seemed strange, as if she had heard food described, but never seen any. John took note of this. "Miss?" The waitress asked again.

"I'll just have some water and a roll of bread with some butter, if that's okay."

The waitress smiled and then glanced at John. "And you?"

John's smile began to fade. "Actually, I need to go. You can just let Charlie order for me, she knows what I like."

The waitress nodded and turned to Charlie. Her smile was soon replaced by nervousness.

"Uh," Charlie tried to recall John's favorite food. She went back in time, trying her best to find a pattern with John's food preferences, but all she found were gaps in her memory. _'Damn it!'_

John turned away from Charlie, getting up from his seat. He very well understood her frustration, and what it likely meant. He walked over to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and turned the flat door-lock, and a clicking noise came out. He then walked over to the sinks, looking at himself in the mirror with intense doubt.

"That isn't Charlie," he said to himself. He looked around himself, as if he felt he was being watched. He couldn't let go of this feeling deep within him that something was wrong. Her personality wasn't Charlie's. The way she talked wasn't close to how Charlie talked. John sighed, looking in the mirror again.

"She is Charlie, I'm just being too dramatic." John turned around and unlocked the door. He then walked out, towards his table. The waitress was still present, waiting for Charlie to order John's food. "What are you waiting for?" he asked the waitress. "I told her to order for me."

"She hasn't ordered yet. She is still thinking," the waitress protested.

"I'm sorry John," she said. She knew this wouldn't make John believe she was Charlie. John let out a deep sigh.

"I'll have some spare ribs with a side of fries, and a coke." ' _I was testing her_ _—she failed.'_ John scratched his head, disappointed in Charlie.

"Alright, it'll be done in ten minutes." The waitress walked away.

Charlie looked at John whilst pulling at her hair"Look, I'm really sorry about that, I seriously am," Charlie said, her face turning pink and eyes becoming glassy. John didn't feel anything.

"How could you forget my _favorite food_?" he asked.

Charlie looked down. "I'm really sorry, I just don't remember. My head is full of gaps, ever since my encounter on that night."

"It's fine," he lied. He just didn't want to get into an argument with her. He didn't want to ruin a dinner night.

"I still don't remember what you said to me that night," Charlie said.

"Okay," John said. "I know that a lot happened that night." Charlie bit her lip.

"If it is that important, why can't you just tell me?" she asked. Instantly, she could see that it was the wrong thing to say. "Nevermind," she whispered, letting many long minutes pass. "Forget I said anything." John didn't respond.

He looked out the window. He watched the sun set down the horizon. Charlie had no interest in watching it, even though she used to love watching sunsets.

"John?" Charlie asked.

John turned to Charlie. "You told me to forget you said anything."

Charlie sighed. "That doesn't mean you have to be quiet," she began. "Look, I'm really sorry."

"Yeah, alright. It's okay I guess."

The waitress brought a cart to the table. "Here are your drinks," she said as she put down a glass of Coke on John's side of the table, and a glass of water on Charlie's side. "And of course the food." The waitress put down a plate with some fries and spare ribs down, and then put a roll of bread down with some butter.

"Thank you," Charlie said, smiling. The waitress moved on to the next table with the cart. John studied Charlie for a moment, noting it in his head. As soon as Charlie noticed, he began eating.

"Do you like it?" Charlie asked, seemingly out of the ordinary. John chewed what was in his mouth, and when he was finished he looked up at Charlie.

"Of course I do. I've been to this place before, remember? Our first dinner together?" John said.

"Just wondering, that's all. Sorry if it's rude."

"Charlie picked up her glass of water and took a sip from it. She blinked, as if what she tasted was bitter.

"It's water," John said. Charlie nodded as she swallowed it, almost afraid of something. She remained still for around a minute, in which John was silent. It was as if Charlie was making sure the water was safe.

"Sorry," Charlie said.

"You've been saying that a lot too. Look, it's water. It isn't gonna hurt you."

"I know, it just had a funny taste."

John sighed. "Whatever you say." He took a few sips from his drink. After that, he took a few more bites from his rib. Charlie eyed him, giving him a nervous expression.

"Have you, erm," Charlie began, but then realized John was still chewing his food. John gestured her to wait. When he was finished, she continued. "Have you seen aunt Jen recently?"

The entire world seemed to dim around him, as if it was only him and Charlie. John put his rib down and pushed his drink aside. "What did you say?"

Charlie raised a brow. "Did I scare you? Sorry."

"No, could you please repeat what you just said?"

"Yeah," Charlie said. "I wanted to know if you've seen aunt Jen at all lately."

John paused, thinking heavily. _'I don't want her to know, but Clay does too...'_ Charlie took another sip from her glass of water. John resumed. "Have you?" he asked.

"I mean, yeah. I just wanted to know if you, or Clay, or anybody else talked with her."

John seemed to take that in harshly, as if she was looking for her. It was strange, because wasn't she with her aunt? "No. Clay wanted to talk to her though, he just had a few questions for her."

"Oh," Charlie said. "Well, Aunt Jen is a really busy person right now. I'm afraid I can't have you see her."

John sighed. "What is she busy with?"

"Paperwork, mostly. There was a huge hospital bill that came that I couldn't pay."

"Oh, well then I understand," he said. He didn't buy any of it, of course. He just played along. "I was thinking we could go to the theater earlier, but they replaced it with the kids place next door."

"Circus Baby's?" she asked, almost as if she knew the name by heart.

"Yeah, that one. A coworker told me that the place had animatronics just like Freddy's, but that they were much more realistic and friendlier."

"Huh," she said. "So you want us to go there after this?" she asked.

"I mean, what else is there to do?" he asked. He wanted to see how she'd react to the place, especially considering how shocked and angered she was for a split second as he came out of the pizzeria before.

"I'll allow it, only on one condition."

"And what's that condition?"

"You accept that I'm Charlie."

John giggled. "I've accepted that you're real."

"Good," Charlie said. John looked down at his meal, realizing he hadn't touched any of his fries, and only one rib. His stomach growled. He continued eating his food, occasionally taking sips from his drink. Charlie looked at John. "Tuesday night."

" _Tuesday_ night? That's two days. Look, I don't care that much either. It's just that there isn't much to do anyway. There's a new place in town, you should at least try to get to know it."

"Huh, I like your style of thinking," Charlie admitted. "But yeah, in two days. I'm not exactly ready to run face first into a circus full of clowns. I don't really like clowns myself, and you don't either."

John sighed. "At least you remember _that_." He recalled his irrational fear of clowns growing up. _'They're just people in a costume,'_ he told himself. Charlie played with her hair. John continued. "They're just people in suits, nothing to be afraid of. Sure, I was a little on edge, but it's alright. It's mainly the noise that's the problem."

"The noise?" Charlie asked.

"It feels like my ears are always ringing in there. I don't know if it's the kids running around and screaming, or if it's something else."

Charlie shrugged. "No way to know until we go in there and see it for ourselves." John nodded in agreement. He looked down at his plate, which was now empty. His glass of Coke was nearly empty, so he drank what was left of it.

"Yeah," John said. "Well, this was a nice dinner, despite some of the complications."

Charlie nodded too. She got up from her seat, and walked up close to John. "Look, it'll be alright for you. You'll get used to me, it's just that you've been away from us for so long. It is bad on your health."

"Yeah, okay," John said, annoyed.

"It's true. You felt you were nothing, so you decided to drown yourself from your work life. You having nightmares about that night were just your subconscious mind trying to get you out of that cycle of hell."

John sighed, almost agreeing with her statement. Then, he realized something else. "Wait, how did you know about that nightmare?" he asked. Charlie shrugged in response.

"Jessica told me." John furrowed his brows.

"I didn't tell Jessica though," John said.

"Well then maybe Clay told Jessica then," Charlie said, insisting that she was right.

"No. Look, I didn't tell _anyone_ about my nightmares."

"Well, I don't know then. Maybe I'm a psychic."

"I doubt that," John said. "Well, it was nice seeing you, but it's pretty late." Charlie nodded in agreement.

"It sure is. You should probably get going, I have work tomorrow anyway."

"Yeah. I'll see you around."

Charlie smiled. She wrapped her arms around John tightly. John initially hesitated, but eventually hugged her back. "I missed you," she said.

"I actually missed you too," John admitted. He felt a sudden wave of dizziness hit his head, similar to what he felt back at that Circus Baby's place, but much more intense. His ears seemed to ring intensely, yet he didn't hear any ringing. He then felt his stomach churn. "Augh!" John painfully said as he let go of Charlie and collapsed onto the floor. Charlie ran over and checked John, and she opened her mouth to speak, but to John, no words came. The ringing was too loud. It was like silence, he couldn't hear a single thing.

Eventually the sensation faded away. "John? Are you alright?" Charlie asked worriedly. John got to his feet, stretching out his arms.

"Yeah, just had an awful headache. I felt like I was about to throw up," John said. He cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry about that. You're probably right, it's late. You should head on home."

"Yeah. Good night," John said as he waved to Charlie. He reached for his wallet and placed a $20 bill on the table, and then he walked right out of the restaurant.

John passed by the Circus Baby's place. There was a crowd full of people, and the owners were celebrating the first grand opening with a big party. He simply walked to his car. He got inside and drove away.

Driving home, John found himself agitated. He tapped his hand over the steering wheel, thinking of the next day. _'What then?'_ Seeing her had rattled him more than he realized. He felt as if the dinner had done nothing than to prove John what he had suspected since day one. _'That isn't Charlie.'_ From her not acting like herself, to her forgetting his favorite food, and even forgetting manners. It was like Charlie was replaced by some robot wearing her skin, having _most_ of her memories, trying to act like her. It reminded him of that one _Star Trek_ episode, where an alien took the place of Captain Picard on the _Enterprise._ The only difference was of course, Charlie was truly dead.

_'I need to find her aunt Jen. Something is terribly wrong.'_


	5. Chapter 5

John stepped inside his apartment, feeling cool air hit his face. He closed the door and slid the chain in place. He didn't bother turning on the light because he was going to sleep soon anyway. He yawned, sitting down on the couch. John closed his eyes, trying to make sense of the last few days. He still held on to the belief that the girl she has been with was not Charlie. To him, she seemed like a jungle. There were a lot of things that Charlie remembered, and then some things that she did not remember, for instance his favorite food.

His prime theory, in which not-Charlie was the lost sister of Charlie, didn't seem to hold up much. Sure, her fine actions such as not knowing certain manners, might point to her being raised by a psychopath, but she knew too much about Charlie for that to be the case.

John sighed, not knowing the answer to that. His mind flashed to the night where he saw that thing in the basement of Charlie's house. The creature that seemed to be made of fine plastic and metal, precisely sculpted out. He then remembered the events leading up to this. Charlie often found herself drawing boxes in her notes, and she seemed somehow attracted to this creature hiding behind that door. After the encounter, the creature created a very loud high-pitched noise, which nearly knocked the wind out of John. He remembered having a similar experience with one of those twisted animatronics when they changed their form. Then, a light went off in his head, having the strength of a bolt of lightning.

 _'What if "Charlie" was that creature the whole time?'_ he thought to himself. The thought created a deep pit in his stomach, but the evidence was clear as day. Her apparent lack of manners, the fact that she appears too emotional, and breaks down over basic things, which wasn't a human thing. And of course, the gaps in her memory. But this still created more questions. _'Why would she have Charlie's memories?'_ he thought to himself.

John reached for the remote, then hearing one of his muscles crack in the process. When it was clear the remote was too far away, he bent down and grabbed it. He turned the TV on, sitting back. All he really saw on it was static, and a few muffled voices. He was beginning to grow tired of falling asleep on the couch, since it wasn't too comfortable. He often found himself falling asleep to the static noise of the TV, which he viewed as a bad thing.

John got up from the couch and walked to his room. He looked around, and his eyes eventually landed on the disembodied rabbit head. "You're awfully quiet," he said to the rabbit. There was no response. Looking at the rabbit's state, he scoffed. "You still look worse than me." He wanted to hear a response to this too, but he got none. He sighed, laying down on the bed for the first time in a couple of days.

He closed his eyes, and the picture of "Charlie" appeared before him. He studied her, looking for anything that might suggest that she is the Charlie he knew all his life. Aside from the brown eyes and hair, there was nothing recognizable about her. Another image flashed in his mind—the creature he found deep inside Charlie's house. He felt some sort of similarity between it and "Charlie", something he couldn't put his finger on. He looked at the image of Charlie again, and he still couldn't find the exact similarity. After flipping between the girl he had dinner with, and the creature, he finally found it.

_'They have the same exact shape._ _'_

John's eyes opened. He looked around his house for a phone, wanting to tell Clay about this, but he then realized he had no phone. "Great," he said to himself. "Now I have to drive." He got up from his bed, not bothering to make the bed. He grabbed Theodore's head by the ear, stuffing it into his little bag he keeps in his closet. He pulled his notebook out from beneath the bed, and stuffed it into his little bag as well. He walked out of the house, locking the door behind him. He ran to his car, opening the door and putting a key in the ignition. He closed the door, and took his car out of the parking gear. He felt a sense of urgency, as if his life was in danger if he did not go.

John parked his car a few blocks away from Clay's house. He strapped his bag behind him, and he ran out of his car. His heart was racing while doing so, struggling to supply his legs with enough oxygen to make the trip. He ran faster and faster until he was right before the door. The door was closed and locked. He knocked on the door, but there was no response. He rang the doorbell, and waited for whole minutes. After a while, the door finally opened, and Clay Burke was on the other side.

"John. Come in," Clay said. He moved to the side to let John in. After closing the door, he gestured John to follow him to his office. Once there, Clay sits down. "Have a seat," he suggested. John sat down on a chair. "Do you want some coffee?" he asked, pointing to an empty mug on his desk.

"It doesn't really matter," he said, shaking his head. "I'm wide awake right now anyway."

Clay nodded. "I've been watering it down," was all he said. John glanced around the room, unsure of what to say, since a lot has happened. He cleared his throat.

"I saw Charlie," he said. There was a lot of emphasis on the "Charlie" part. "She asked if I heard from her aunt Jen."

Clay tilted his head. "Did Charlie tell you why she was asking?"

John shook his head. "She just wanted to know if I heard from her. I don't know why I would hear from her though."

Clay sat up. "Well, that is certainly strange."

"Yeah. I told her that you wanted to speak to her aunt."

"Well, what did she say in response to that?"

"She said that her aunt was busy with paperwork and other things. It is strange, but I would at least expect her to give an address."

"Oh," Clay said. "Well, that surely wasn't the only reason you came here," he said.

After a long pause, John spoke. "No, it wasn't." He glanced around the room, unsure of where to begin. He just decided to start from the beginning. "Remember that creature I said I saw in Charlie's house, well a couple of months ago?"

Clay nodded. "You mean what was left of her house. Yes, I remember."

"Well, I've been having constant nightmares about that. Of that _thing_."

Clay shrugged. "It could have been one of Henry's unfinished animatronics."

"It wasn't, because it released a high pitched sound to mess with my ears," he said.

"Well then, I don't know. It was probably one of those twisted old animatronics that William Afton hid under the house."

John nodded. "Yeah, it's just that something feels off."

"What do you mean?" Clay asked.

"I went out for dinner with Charlie. She always knew what my favorite food was, but she for some reason forgot it. She doesn't even like eating anymore. And the way she behaved around the glass of water, it was even stranger. It was like she didn't know what water was, or that she'd never seen food before."

Clay shrugged. "I don't know then. Maybe she lost some of her memories."

John clenched his fist. "People don't just lose memories, not to mention important ones. This Charlie just felt unusual to me. She's too over emotional, she tears up over the smallest of things, completely unlike the Charlie I used to know."

"What are you trying to say?" Clay asked.

"I'm saying that woman is not Charlie. This might sound crazy, but you have to believe me."

Clay couldn't help but grin a little, but he straightened himself shortly after. "If she's not Charlie, then who is she?"

"Well, you know how I've been having nightmares about that creature? Well, there is something similar between Charlie and that creature, something I couldn't put my finger on. Eventually I realized they had the exact same body shape. Their chins were both the same, being triangular in a way. The way their body is thin, too."

Clay scratched his head. "So you're saying Charlie is that animatronic creature?"

"I mean, it's possible. It would explain why she wants to know if we've seen aunt Jen. If we were to talk to the real aunt Jen, she would tell us that the Charlie we have been with is fake, which would ruin her facade."

"Huh," Clay said. "Your theory is plausible, but what about her memories?"

"Yeah, that is what I'm stuck on. It's possible that William Afton/Springtrap/Whatever was somehow spying on us, but that wouldn't explain how she knows other personal things. She remembers things about her since her childhood, a time where William Afton wouldn't be suspicious about Charlie."

John sighed. He knew that there was enough basis for his theory, but there was the problem of memory. That has been something John couldn't figure out, with any theory that states that the women she has been talking with was not Charlie.

"You know, maybe you should take a step back from this. Yes, there is a lot of evidence that proves she isn't Charlie, but still, the Occam's Razor applies."

John tilted his head. "What's that?"

"It's a principle where when choosing between two solutions or answers, the simplest one is usually the correct one."

John shook his head. "Charlie is completely different. There isn't a single feature I can recognize about her except her brown eyes and hair."

Clay lied back in his chair. He took a sip of his coffee. John realized he was still wearing his little backpack, so he put it down. Clay looked at it. "What's in there?"

"Oh," John said, unzipping the bag. "Some of my things, just Theodore and a journal of mine." He pulled out Theodore and his old journal, which contained lots of notes relating to Charlie. John placed Theodore on the desk.

Clay looked at the journal. "You know, Charlie wouldn't be happy if she found out you had this," he said.

"I know," John said. "Still, I read it every now and then to make sure I'm not crazy."

Clay put the notebook down. "I don't think you're crazy. Honestly, I'm starting to agree with you. Something is off about Charlie, it's just that I need some more proof to believe your little theory."

"Well I'm glad you think that. All of my other friends think I'm crazy, including Charlie."

"Well, let's say for a moment that your theory is correct. An animatronic disguised as Charlie is walking around, messing with us. This animatronic is made by William Afton. What would he have to gain by doing that?"

"Most likely getting information from us. She could be spying on us, and handing information over to William Afton so he knows what he is dealing with, and what he can get away with."

"That makes sense," Clay said. He then looked at Theodore's head, which was beaten up and rotting. "Why do you still keep this, anyways?"

"Well, it reminded me of Charlie, for a while." The rabbit head began making noises again, this time there were muffled words coming out. John put Theodore to his ear and listened. "Could you give me a pen and paper?"

"Yeah," Clay said as he reached into his desk, grabbing a pen and a notebook. He tore off a page at the end of the notebook, and handed it to John. John took the pen and pressed it against the paper. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the sounds. After a minute, he heard something.

"Shining—something. Silver?" He continued to listen. "Shining Star?" He wrote them down. He put the pen down and just closed his eyes once more. _'Just listen.'_ The sounds repeated again and again. Suddenly, they resolved, like song lyrics on the thousandth play.

"Shining Star? Silver, something. Silver reef?" John asked.

"Shining Star, Silver Reef," the rabbit repeated. It went on and on, repeating those words as clear as day. John opened his eyes and looked at Clay. "Some sort of secret code?"

Clay shook his head. "I don't know what shining star means, but Silver Reef is an abandoned town a few miles from the borders of this town."

"Huh," he said. "Maybe it's a location?"

"Probably, but what could it be for? Who put it inside Theodore?" Clay asked.

"I'm not sure. Maybe we should talk to the others about this."

"Well, I don't know where Marla is. Carlton is sleeping in the guest room, and Jessica is probably at her apartment."

"Well then you need to talk to Carlton about this. He'd surely be interested in finding out what this 'shining star' in Silver Reef is."

Clay nodded. "Got it." Clay walked out of his office, leaving John alone. He looked outside the window, noticing a stranger walking near the house. The stranger walked up to the door, studying it for a moment.

"Clay!" John shouted.

"Yeah?"

"Someone's at the door—"

A loud bang erupted from downstairs. The bang was later followed by a scream. "Go into the safe! The code is 1-9-7-9!" Clay shouted. "It's behind the sunset painting!"

John's eyes darted around the room, and then landing at a large painting of a sunset. He ran over to the painting, removing it from the wall. Behind the painting was a safe, with a keypad. Without hesitation, John entered the code 1-9-7-9. There was a loud beep, and the safe opened. Inside the safe, there was a shotgun and a pistol. He grabbed both, leaving the safe open. He ran down the staircase, seeing Clay backing away from an animatronic of sorts. It had orange hair with two pigtails, green glowing eyes, and red cheeks. It also wore a red skirt.

"Clay!" John shouted. Clay Burke glanced between John and the animatronic. John threw a pistol at Clay's direction, expecting him to grab the pistol and shoot the intruder with it. "Take it!"

The pistol landed nowhere near Clay, instead landing behind the animatronic creature. The creature giggled in his failed attempt. John furrowed his brows, cocking his shotgun. He ran down the stairs and reached the bottom. He slowly closed in on the animatronic creature, and when the time was right, he shot the creature with it. Almost immediately, he dropped the shotgun and covered both of his ears. "Ow!" he complained, forgetting that he had to protect his ears when using firearms. After a moment, the pain subsided. He opened his eyes and looked at the animatronic, who has not seemed to been affected by it. "What?"

The animatronic creature grinned, turning to face John. For the first time, it spoke. "It isn't very nice to shoot someone."

"Clay!" John shouted. "Get Carlton!"

The animatronic turned around to face Clay. "You're not going anywhere." John picked up the pistol that he attempted to give go Clay, and he pointed it at Elizabeth, still distracted by Clay. Without hesitation, he fired a bullet into the animatronic. The bullet went straight through it, and the animatronic collapsed. John immediately ran over to Clay, handing him the pistol.

"Clay! You okay?" he asked with a concerned expression.

"Yeah. Get Carlton, now," he demanded. He bent over and grabbed the pistol that John tossed at him earlier.

John nodded. He walked up the stairs, and went into the guest room. He opened the door and stepped inside. He noticed the lack of any decorations, but after all this was a guest room. There was only a ceiling fan and an air conditioner. Carlton was sleeping in a bed.

"Carlton!" John shouted. Carlton bolted awake, startled by him.

"Clay? What the hell—" he began, but stopped himself. "John? What are you doing here?"

"There's a huge problem. One of William Afton's little robots broke in to the home and tried to kill Clay. She's down, for now."

Carlton's eyes widened. "You've got to be kidding me. Where's my dad?"

"I'm right here," Clay said as he entered Carlton's room. "We have to get out of here."

"Where are we going?" Carlton asked.

"The police station. We are going to switch cars so she can't follow us, and then we're going to Silver Reef."

John nodded. John and Carlton ran down the stairs, followed by Clay. Clay ran outside and got to his car. John and Carlton sat down in the back, and Clay sat in the driver seat. He started the engine and put the car into the driving gear. He hit the gas and the car drove off.

Back at the house, the animatronic creature watched as the car drove away. She grinned, repeating the same phrase Theodore had. "Shining Star, Silver Reef."


	6. Chapter 6

Jessica looked out the window of her apartment once again, this time seeing a van parked in the lot. Charlie stepped out of the van and knocked on the door. Jessica walked over to the door and opened it. "Hey Charlie."

"Jessica," she said in an angered tone.

"You okay?" Jessica asked.

"Yeah," Charlie said. "I just wanted to stop by."

"Alright," Jessica said. "Well how are you?"

"I'm doing fine. John still doesn't believe I'm... me."

"Well, he's stubborn." Jessica shrugged.

"Naturally," Charlie said. "We had dinner together, and I tried to use that time to prove that I was me, but I ended up failing."

"It's okay," Jessica said, putting her hand over Charlie's shoulder. "He'll realize you are Charlie on his own, don't try to force it on him."

Charlie nodded. "I'm worried."

"Why?" Jessica asked.

"I can't find Clay Burke."

"He's probably at his house," Jessica said. "Or asleep."

"No," Charlie said. "I checked already, the door was unlocked and nobody was there. The car was missing too."

"Alright? I mean he'll probably be back in the morning, he could have gone to the store."

"He left a note on his door," Charlie began. "It said Shining Star, Silver Reef," she said. Jessica shrugged.

"Clay isn't the one to put notes on his door."

"I know," Charlie said. "But what do you think it means?"

"Well Silver Reef is an abandoned mining town."

"And the shining star part?"

"I have no clue," Jessica admitted. "I mean it could refer to a building with a star on the roof, or something like that. Look, I don't know. I'm not really smart with these things."

"It's fine," Charlie said. "What you said was enough."

"Huh?" Jessica asked.

"I'm sorry I have to do this." Before Jessica could react, a loud high pitched noise echoed from all directions. "OW!" she yelled, she then looked at Charlie, watching as her face morphed into a creature unrecognizable to her.

"I cannot have any witnesses," a much younger and child-like voice said to her. Jessica's vision faded from her, and she eventually lost consciousness.

* * *

Clay parked the car in the parking lot of a hardware store. "The police station is about ten blocks away," Clay said. "The farther we are, the lesser chance we have of being followed."

John nodded. "That's a good idea." Clay stepped out of the car, gesturing John and Carlton to get out too. They get out, and Clay opens the trunk. Inside, there are two handguns.

"These seem to work on them," Clay said. He grabbed two of them, and handed one to John. He put the other in his holster, and he closed the door shut. "Alright, let's go." Clay and the others began their hike.

"So who do you think this animatronic is?" Carlton asked. Clay shrugged.

"It's just an animatronic that is here to kill us. And for some reason, it was hidden inside Henry's house," Clay said.

"Yeah, but why _Henry's_ house?" Carlton asked.

"Maybe William Afton tampered with one of Henry's animatronics."

"Maybe," Carlton said.

After a four long minutes, they reached their destination. Clay walked up to the door and opened it for the other two. After they went inside, Clay came in too. Inside, there were a few people waiting, and there were several other officers present. Clay walked up to the front desk.

"Clay?" the woman at the front desk asked, surprised by his arrival. "How can I help you?" Clay cleared his throat.

"I need to ask you a favor." A few others glanced at him.

The woman tilted her head. "Go on."

"I need to borrow a police car. I'm taking it to an abandoned town to work on a case. I do not want you to reveal this to anyone, understand? I do not want there to be any records of me arriving or leaving this station for tonight."

The woman scratched her head. "Why do you need me to do this?"

"Well, we're being chased by a dangerous group of people ... just, don't tell anyone, got it?"

"Yes," the woman responded. The woman then went to her office. Clay turned to John and Carlton.

"That's our free ride. Come on." He walked past the guest room, sliding a keycard into the reader. A door opened afterward, and the three walked in.

"I thought you said we were getting a car," John said.

"We are," Clay replied. Opening another door, they arrived at another parking lot. "Follow me." Clay walked over to a police car and inserted a key into it, opening the door. He sat in the driver seat. Carlton sat in the back, and John sat in the passenger seat. "Alright, belt in."

The others did so, and Clay put the gear of the car to reverse. He pulled out of the parking lot, and switched gears to drive. He drove out of the parking lot, and onto the open road.

"So what do you think this 'shining star' is?" John asked.

"I'm not sure," Clay said. "But we'll certainly find out once we get there."

"What if it's a trap?" John asked.

The car stopped at a red light. Clay turned to John. "That's why we have those two guns in the back."

John nodded. "I can't help but feel we're being followed."

"Wasn't it a good thing we switched cars?" Clay asked.

John shook his head. "I don't think it makes a difference." The light turned green, and the car was moving again. "Besides, how do you know that animatronic wasn't listening?"

"You _shot_ it. It was out cold, there was no chance it was listening."

John sighed. "How do you know it was out cold?"

Clay shrugged. "It collapsed, it didn't move for a while."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean it was dead."

"We have two guns. If it comes back, we'll deal with it."

* * *

In less than half an hour, they were at the ghost town. Clay stopped the car beside a wooden sign reading "Welcome to Silver Reef", and got out. John and Carlton followed. It was an odd mix, even in the dark. In the distance, they could see the crumbling walls of buildings that would never be restored, and close by were the places for tourists. A church, a museum, and a few others John couldn't make out.

"We're going to get killed out here," Carlton whispered, losing his balance on the loose dirt and gravel for a moment.

"When exactly did people last live here?" John whispered to Clay.

"Late 1800s I think. Silver mining town, hence the name."

The town seemed more abandoned than they expected it to be. On the distant hills there were scattered lights. "What does 'Shining Star' mean, anyway?" John muttered to himself. The night sky was clear, with no city lights to drown it out.

"It's pretty," Carlton said.

"Yeah, but not helpful," John said. He turned around again, and he saw it. "Shining star," he said.

"What?" Carlton turned, and squinted to follow his eye line. Clay turned to John.

A few yards back the way they'd come was a wooden archway leading into a field, at the peak of the arch was a single silver star.

The field was wide, sloping upward. At the top of the hill, John could see the outline of a house. It was scarcely visible, had it not been for the guidance of Theodore's mumbling head, it wouldn't have stood out from anything else. With wordless agreement, they passed under the star, and began walking toward their target.

As they made their way up the hill, a small one story house came into view. There were windows on each out-facing wall, but only one was lit in the back. They slowed their pace as they reached the front door, and there was only one concrete step. The front door was unwelcoming. Clay looked around for a doorbell, but he couldn't find one so he knocked. There was no sound of movement from inside. Clay raised his hand to try again when the door creaked open, and a tall dark-haired woman peered out, staring at them coldly.

"Hello, Jen," Clay said. The others stepped back. Jen tilted her head, her dark eyes fixing on him. "This is my son Carlton, and this is also John. They are friends with Charlie," Clay said.

"And?" she said.

"We're here because there was a message," John said. She waited patiently as John reached into his bag, taking Theodore's head out. Jen showed no surprise, only curling her lip slightly.

"Hello, Theodore," she said calmly. "You've seen better days, haven't you?"

John smiled, then hardened his features.

"Shining Star, Silver Reef," John said, but Jen didn't react. 'This is a strange place to call home."

"A message." She looked at Theodore's head, then looked over her shoulder, though all that was visible behind her was a dark hallway.

"Did you want us to come here? I don't understand," John said.

"Why don't you come inside?" Jen said, then closing the door as soon as they came in. The house was spare, the furniture was dark and plain. The walls were layered wallpaper, rich and vintage designs from decades ago. Jen ushered them through a living room with only two chairs and an end table, into a small room almost filled by a square, black stained dinner table. "Please," she said, gesturing to the other chairs. John, Clay, and Carlton sat down.

"So this is where Charlie grew up?" Carlton asked.

"No."

"So, then you moved here recently?" John asked suspiciously, refusing to believe someone would select this house by choice.

"How is Charlie?" Jen said slowly. "Did she know about the message as well?"

"No," John said plainly. "She doesn't seem well. She is hiding something, I could feel it. She doesn't act the way Charlie usually does, there are holes in her memory, and she has completely forgotten some things."

"What else?"

"An animatronic broke into Clay's house. We had to escape, and we decided here would be the best option."

Jen sighed. "Not the wisest decision you have made, I fear." She walked over to the window and peered outside. A van drove across the fields, heading towards the house. She closed the blinds, and turned off the lights. "Hide." The others nodded, hiding inside a dark room while Jen went into the living room. She opened the door, and footsteps were heard.

"Hello, aunt Jen," Charlie said. "I'm so glad I can see you again."

"Charlie, what happened to you? Why do you look so ... different?"

"Oh, it's my new appearance. Do you like it?"

"My brain and my eyes are telling me two different things about you."

John's eyes widened, and his blood seemed to freeze upon hearing that. He turned to Clay and Carlton, who nodded.

"Well, maybe I should fix that," Charlie said. A high pitched noise echoed in Jen's ears, and Charlie's appearance changed into something of a clown-like animatronic. "Better?"

Jen's eyes widened. The animatronic revealed a knife from behind her back.

"Now," the animatronic said. "Where are the others?"

"What others?" Jen asked.

"John, Carlton, Clay. They all need to die, they've seen too much."

Clay reached into his holster, pulling out his handgun.

Jen backed away from the animatronic. "What are you? Why are you doing this?"

"I'm Charlie," she said. "Just not the Charlie that you knew."

John was restless, and he looked around the room he was in. They were in a bedroom—at least, there was a bed in it. There were cardboard boxes everywhere. John stumbled around them for a while.

"What are you doing?" Clay asked.

"Something isn't right here," John whispered. "Come on, this might be our only chance to find out what she's up to." He shuffled through some papers, then closed the lid and moved on to the next cardboard box.

"I don't suggest doing that," Clay said, almost a bit too loudly.

"What was that?" The animatronic asked Jen, who shrugged. "Who said that?"

Clay's heart stopped as he heard what Charlie said. John moved to a large green chest, the paint almost completely worn off. John knelt beside it, he found the handle, and tried to get it open. He shuddered, falling back and pushing himself away. "Carlton," he gasped, moving back to the open chest and leaning over it.

"Shhhh," Carlton hissed from the door, listening to what is happening outside.

"Carlton."

"What, John? I'm trying to listen."

"It's ... it's Charlie," he said hoarsely. "In the chest."

"What?" Carlton whispered. He turned around in annoyance, his face falling. He dropped to his knees, where John had gone back down to looking in the chest. Charlie was curled up in the fetal position, she looked like she was sleeping, with a pillow under her head and blankets surrounding her. Her brown hair was a mess, her face was round. John stared, his heart pounding so hard the only thing he heard was the rush of his own blood. _'She's alive.'_ John reached down into the trunk and touched her cheek. It was too cool. His mind snapped out of the shock. _'We need to get her out of here! She's sick.'_ He stood and reached awkwardly into the trunk, then gently carried her out. He looked down at her in his arms.

* * *

 _'Don't let me go_ _—let go of me, what's happening?'_ Someone touched her cheek, a brief, startling spot of warmth. It was gone just as quickly. _'Come back,'_ she _tried to say, but no words came._

"Charlie". ' _That's my name, someone is saying my name.'_ Charlie tried to open her eyes. ' _I know that voice.'_ Someone's arms reached down under her, lifting her from the cramped, dark place she'd been so long that memories of somewhere else seemed like dreams. She still couldn't open her eyes. An older man said something. _'I know them.'_ She couldn't remember their names.

The first voice came again. It was a man's voice, and she felt its reverberation as he pulled her against his chest, holding her like a child. Warmth radiated from him, he was solid and alive. Even standing still, he was filled with movement. She could hear his heartbeat, just beside her ear. _'I am alive.'_ He said something, and the rumble of it shook her whole body. The older man answered, and then she was jostled painfully. _'We're going somewhere.'_ She still couldn't open her eyes.

"It's gonna be okay, Charlie," he whispered, and the sleeping world began to pull her down again. _'I want to stay!'_ She began to panic, then as she slipped into unconsciousness again, he grabbed hold of the last words he said. _'It's gonna be okay.'_

John clutched Charlie to his chest, then relaxed his grip anxiously, afraid of hurting her.

"How are we going to get her out?" Clay asked, and he glanced around room. There was a window, but it was high and narrow. They wouldn't be able to get through.

"We'll have to run for it," John said in a low voice. "Wait until she leaves." Carlton met John's eyes, his face written over with all of the questions John had asked himself for the past few months.

A scream rippled through the silence between them, and John came alert. Someone screamed again from somewhere in the house. John looked around wildly for an escape, and his eyes landed on a closet door. "There," he said, nodding toward it. Another bang came, and the wall beside them shook, another scream, then a scrabbling sound. "Hurry!" John whispered, but Carlton was already clearing a path. He moved aside boxes as quickly as possible, and he carried Charlie carefully behind. Carlton shoved the coats and hangers aside, making room, and they crammed themselves in the space.

"It's gonna be okay, Charlie," John whispered. Carlton closed the door half way, but then stopped.

"Wait," he whispered.

"What?

Carlton ran back across the room carelessly, his steps thudding on the wood floor.

"Carlton, what are you doing?" John hissed. Carlton reached out the window, snapped open the hook, and threw it back open with a loud bang. John gasped as Carlton raced on tiptoe back to the closet, this time making no noise. He nestled beside him, leaving the door open just a crack, and rested a hand on Charlie's shoulder.

Within an instant, the bedroom door swung open, and someone stepped through. The light from the rest of the house filtered in dimly, and through the tiny crack in the door, they could barely make out a silhouette in red. The figure paused for a moment, looking outside, and with a rush of movement too quick to follow, vanished out the window.

John stood still, his heart pounding, half expecting the figure to reappear again in front of them. Charlie's weight was starting to put stress on his arms, and he moved to the side.

"Come on," Carlton said. Clay nodded, and he pushed the door open cautiously. When it became clear that no one was coming, they came out of the closet. "We need to tell the others about this."

"Yeah," John said, holding Charlie in his arms. "Let's go." John walked out of the bedroom, and the others followed him. They stepped into the living room, and stopped. Jen's body was laying down on the floor, with deep cuts all over the throat and arms. Blood was pooling beneath her. John put his hand over Charlie's eyes, while his eyes widened.

"She's dead," Clay said. "We need to get out of here, or the same thing could happen to us." He looked out the window, seeing a gentle slope that subsided for what seemed like a mile, before he noticed his car parked on the gravel road. "I wish I didn't park over there."

Carlton sighed. "It doesn't matter. We either make a run for it, or we die." He then gestured to the front door, opening it. John and Clay looked exchanged glances, then they walked out. Carlton followed, closely behind the two.

* * *

Charlie regained consciousness again. This time, she was more aware of her surroundings—still unable to open her eyes or speak. She still felt someone carrying her, at great speeds. It was as if the person carrying her were running down a slope. She was beginning to feel sick from the motion.

 _'Make it stop!'_ she tried to say, yet no words came. She was forced to endure it. To her, it felt as if she could be let go at moment, which filled her with dread. "We're almost at the car," her carrier spoke out.

After a minute, the sickening motion stopped. Charlie was placed in a sort of leather seat, and she felt herself get strapped to the seat.

"It's alright," the voice said to Charlie. "It's over now."

* * *

Carlton turned around, seeing a beaten up van parked in the field. A red figure stepped inside the van, and the van's headlights turned on. "We have to go!" Carlton shouted, watching the van pull out.

Clay pulled the car out of the gravel driveway, and turned the car to the road. Clay turned his head around, seeing the van approach them. "You two will by my eyes back there," Clay said. He hit the gas and the car drove off. The van still seemed to inch closer and closer to them, forcing Clay to increase his speed even more.

"What is the maximum speed of this thing?" Carlton asked, glancing between the van and Clay.

"This can go a hundred miles per hour," Clay answered. "Relax, we just need to lose them and we'll be fine," he said. He turned his head to the right, seeing an exit to the road. The car turned to the right and onto the exit. The car then went off-road, shutting its lights off.

Carlton looked around, giving Clay a concerned look. "What are you doing?"

"We're shaking her loose." Clay watched as the van made a right turn and zipped right across the exit.

Carlton grinned. "You're pretty good at this." Clay turned to Carton.

"It's one of the advantages of driving at night. Alright, let's get out of here," Clay said as he went onto the main road. The car drove into the darkness.

John looked at Charlie, who seemed to be asleep. _'I was right the whole time,'_ he said to himself. _'She wasn't real.'_ A chill traveled down his spine as he realized this could have just been the beginning.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Torture scenes.

Jessica found herself in a darkened room, where the sounds of water dripping echoed from around her. Jessica tried to get up, but she found herself restrained. Looking up, she saw a single dim light illuminating the room. Jessica looked around, attempting to figure out her situation. There were a few loose wires around, the floor had a checker-like pattern, and there were chairs lined up along the side of the room too. There was a single person seated in a chair, arms and legs bound to the chair.

"Hello?" Jessica asked. "Is anyone there?"

There was no response. Jessica focused more on the person in the chair, and noticed some sort of tube or wire attached to their hand, connected to some sort of bag. _'Are they even alive?'_ She looked away from the chair, and studied the rest of the room. There was a sort of furnace or kiln to the right of her, with a bear-shaped suit propped against it. Though she could not fully make it out, she could tell that it was stained in yellow. _'Am I going to be stuffed inside one of those?'_ she thought to herself. She then turned to the person in the chair again.

"Can you hear me?" she asked, this time much louder than before. She expected the person to hear her, but there was no response, not even an inch of movement from them. Jessica let out a deep sigh, realizing how much trouble she is in. She pulled against her chains using her arms and legs, but they wouldn't get loose.

Footsteps echoed from nearby. Jessica's eyes darted towards a door a few meters away from her, where the sound came from. Jessica clenched her teeth as the door opened and a stiff, beaten up man entered the room. The man's eyes seemed to glow a shade of gray in the darkness, and the man sighed. "In every revolution, sacrifices must be made," the man said, in a tone that was strikingly familiar to her. Jessica remained silent. The man flipped a switch on the wall, and a few lights turned on. Jessica squinted, adjusting to the light. "Sorry about that," he apologized. Jessica studied the man some more, and his distinct features became visible. He didn't even seem human, half of him was torn apart, replaced by machinery; his entire skeleton was made of steel. There were metal beams in place of his arms and legs, and in some places, his flesh warped around the metal skeleton. "I look like a mess, don't I?"

Jessica's heart stopped as she realized who the man was. "William Afton," she said.

The man tilted his head. "I don't like being called that," he said. "Call me Dave."

"What happened to your 'Springtrap' persona?" Jessica asked. "And the suit, of course," she added.

"I want you to understand what happens to those who find out too much."

Jessica furrowed her brows. "Find out too much? We all know what you are. You're a murderer, and a monster. You were so obsessed with Charlie that you built robots to hunt her down and kill her."

"Do you think this is just about killing people?" he asked.

"I'd like to imagine that," Jessica said truthfully.

"So I have all this technology on my hands: illusion discs, powerful animatronics, all this knowledge—and I use it to kill people?" he retorted.

Jessica let out a sigh. "If not, then what is it about?"

The man sat down in a chair. "I used to always go in that yellow suit. It felt personal to me, as if a part of me was stuck inside that suit, and the only way to get that part back was by being in that suit," he said.

She straightened her body. "You're insane," she said. "How could a suit make someone feel more whole?"

"When that suit crushed me, it was very painful. It was the most painful thing in my life. I wasn't even sure if I was alive," he began, clawing the side of his chair. "But after the pain subsided, I felt complete. The part of me that had been trapped in the suit, it joined with me."

Jessica pulled her arms and legs out, attempting to break free of her chains. The man simply grinned, showing his completely destroyed teeth and jaw.

"Don't even bother. The more you struggle, the tighter it gets," the man warned.

Jessica spat at him. "What do you even want? Why do you want to kidnap children?" Jessica asked. The man grinned slightly.

"It's not just the children I want," he began. He stood up from his seat, towering over Jessica menacingly. "It's their souls I want."

* * *

Clay's car sped across the main road. They were still in the middle of nowhere, miles from town. John looked out the window, watching trees pass at high speeds. "I wonder if we lost her," John said. Carlton turned to John.

"You mean Charlie?" Carlton asked, his eyes then landing on the girl sitting next to John. "I mean the other one," he corrected himself. "I don't even know what's going on anymore. There's something wrong with that Charlie. She has many of the real Charlie's memories, yet there are gaps everywhere."

"Well," John began. "Didn't the Charlie we knew also have gaps in her memory?" he asked as he rested his hand behind his head.

"I don't know, I'm not privy to that sort of thing," Carlton said. "All I know is that there is an animatronic that has been pretending to be Charlie for the past few months, and she has been doing a good job at it."

"A good job? She can't even get my favorite food right," John retorted.

"She managed to fool all of us. You on the other hand were a little tough," Carlton said. "It's a good thing you did that, otherwise we would still think she is Charlie."

"Probably not," John said. "The final straw was Theodore and his 'Silver Reef' speech. I would've heard that regardless of anything." He looked out the window again, trying to ease his mind again by watching the trees zoom by. They weren't in Hurricane yet, but they weren't in Silver Reef either. It was just a long stretch of plains with few trees here and there.

"I never really understood your obsession with Charlie," Carlton said. John swallowed hard, steadily turning to face Carlton.

"I'm not obsessed with her," he said. "At least not anymore." He felt as if his choice of words were picked finely. He was embarrassed that he was obsessed with Charlie months ago. He cared for her, but he felt himself distancing from Charlie. Of course, this could have been the result of him being away from his friends for so long.

"I mean, Charlie is something else. She always felt strange to me, like there was something different about her. You knew her father, right?"

"Yeah. He was a pretty busy man, usually working on his latest animatronics. When Sammy vanished, he devoted even more time working on them."

"Well that's just creepy," Carlton said. "What were the animatronics he worked on?"

"I never really got the chance to see them for myself, but one time I caught him in his little workshop. He was building an animatronic that was shiny, like the one I saw underneath her house a few months ago."

"Do you think it's the same one?" Carlton asked.

"It might be," John said. "William Afton probably repurposed it to suit his needs." The car passed a sign saying "Welcome to Hurricane", which was lit by a small lantern. Trees became much more plentiful from the point on.

"It's strange how quickly the scenery changes," Clay said. His tone suggested that he has been in and out of town many times in order to make that remark.

"Yeah," Carlton said. The car passed by a few residential homes, a few stores, and other things. Minutes later, an apartment complex was in sight. Clay drove the car towards it, studying it further.

"That's her apartment," Clay said. He drove into the parking lot. After settling for a parking space, he stopped the car and went outside. John and Carlton followed. They walked to the door to Jessica's apartment. Clay knocked.

"I hope she isn't asleep," John said. A brief minute passed, and there was no answer. Clay glanced at the parking lot, noticing Jessica's car.

"Her car is parked," Clay said. "I could try firing my gun outside her window to wake her up," he suggested. He reached for his holster, but John stopped him before he could pull it out. John furrowed his brows.

"Are you crazy? You'll wake her up for sure, but also everyone else in this town!" John said.

"Guys," Carlton interrupted. "We could probably just walk in."

"Isn't it locked?" John asked.

"That lock isn't strong," Carlton said. "You could break right in."

"Well, there's one way to test that," Clay said. He backed away from the door, and kicked at it hard. After the second hit, the lock snapped and the door swung open. Carlton smiled.

"See?" Carlton said, silently rubbing in his assumption. John sighed, not amused in the slightest by it.

"Shut up," he said as he held Charlie firmly in his arms. Her weight has been putting strain on his arms for a while.

Carlton and Clay stepped inside. John soon followed. Clay turned to John. "Me and Carlton will search everything to the left. You will search the right," Clay said. John nodded.

"I'm glad we at least have a plan," John replied. Clay and Carlton walked off, leaving John and Charlie alone in the living room. "Now it's just you and me," he said. Her body was much warmer than when he found her in Jen's house. "How do you feel?" he said to her. There was no answer. "Looks like you're still tired," he said to her. He walked over to the sofa and rested Charlie on it.

John stepped into the hallway. He looked around, not too fond of the plain walls without any decorations. Of course, he was guilty of the same exact thing back in his apartment which he hadn't cared for since he got it. No furniture, no decorations. All he added to the apartment was Theodore and those two boxes which had some books that he had finished by now.

He sighed and turned to the right, stepping into Jessica's room. The room itself was painted in red with black curtains over the windows. "Huh," he said, marveled at the design. He glanced around the room, seeing a computer desk in the corner and a bed all the way in the far left corner. "Maybe I shouldn't be in here."

Of course, no one but John was present in Jessica's room. He sighed and walked back into the living room. Clay and Carlton were present. "She isn't here," John said. Carlton looked down in disappointment, while Clay kept his posture.

"We couldn't find her either," Carlton said. "Her car is parked here, I doubt she would have traveled far on foot," he finished. He looked outside, studying the cars that passed by. There were a few moments of silence that followed his statement, as if John was incapable of speaking. Finally, John spoke out.

"You're right," he said. He thought back to all the times Jessica and the others traveled. Almost always, she took her car with her, even when traveling short distances. If she wanted to go to the store that was a few blocks away, she would drive there. "She never really traveled far by walking."

Carlton turned away from the window. He looked at John, who was staring at him distraughtly. "What if she was taken?" Carlton asked.

Clay looked outside, then he turned to Carlton. "Taken?"

"What if she was taken by Charlie?" he began, but realized his mistake as John gave him an annoyed look. "I mean the ... other Charlie."

"Right, her," John said. "I still haven't figured out how she has a lot of the real Charlie's memories." John looked over at Charlie, who was asleep. He then turned back to Carlton. "Do you have any ideas?"

"Maybe we should take a step back," Clay said. "We shouldn't be trying to figure out how that thing has Charlie's memories," he began. "We should be tracking that thing down. Carlton believes that the other Charlie kidnapped Jessica. While there are some flaws with that theory, there is no other explanation as to why she is gone."

John stood up from the couch. "I agree. We should really get going, but..." he began but cut himself off as he turned to Charlie. "What are we going to do about Charlie?"

Carlton scratched his head. "I'm not sure," he said. "Maybe you and Charlie could stay here."

"You need me," he said. "But someone needs to look over Charlie. Chances are, the impostor is looking for her right now." John looked down, unsure of what to do.

Clay cleared his throat. "It isn't a good idea to stay here. If the other Charlie is looking for us, well this would be the first place she'd expect us to be."

"What if she wants us to think that?" John asked, raising his voice. Clay glanced outside, watching cars go by.

"We really shouldn't second guess ourselves. We need to leave, and we need to find Jessica," Clay said. John sighed.

"Look, I'll call Marla and tell her to pick me and Charlie up. You two can focus on getting Jessica," John said.

"Fine," Clay said. "Just be careful."

"Wait," Carlton said. "Where are we going?" he asked. John glanced at the two, curiously.

"We're going to find Jessica," Clay said.

Carlton walked up to Clay. "We have no idea where she is. We can't just get a crystal ball and see where she is."

"The other Charlie probably kidnapped her," Clay said.

Look," Carlton began. "We don't know where they are. We can't just look around town either, she could be anywhere."

"I think I know where she might be," John said. The others turned to face him, waiting for him to answer. "When I passed by that kid's place, I saw this clown girl going by. She seemed so ... _robotic_ , and her motions proved that even more."

"Are you saying that clown girl is part of that kid's place?" Carlton asked.

"I think you should check that place out first," John said. Carlton turned to Clay, tilting his head.

"That's a good place to start," Clay said. "Circus Baby's, right?"

"Yeah," John said. "You two can go."

"Alright," Clay said. He turned to Carlton, gesturing him to leave. "Let's go."

Carlton nodded, he then walked out the door with Clay. John sighed as the door closed behind them. He walked over to the couch, sitting down next to Charlie.

"It's alright Charlie. I'm not going anywhere," he said. He sat back, unsure of what to do. It would be quite some time before Charlie would wake up. "I'm going to bring a friend over."

* * *

"Their _souls_? Are you insane?" Jessica asked, her fist tightening. The man chuckled.

"I can do what I wish with them," the man said. "After all, they're dead." Jessica sighed.

"Why do you want them?" she asked forcefully. The man walked over to Jessica, holding a key. He unlocked Jessica's chains, setting her free.

"You are going to help me," the man said. Jessica backed away, and then dashed at the man full force attempting to kick him down. Instead of knocking him over, she yelped in pain as she felt her muscles in her foot crack. She collapsed onto the floor, watching the man tower over her. He looked down, grinning.

The man got to his knees and grabbed Jessica by the neck. He slowly lifted her from the ground, squeezing her neck tight. She struggled to breathe as he did this, while the man simply relished it. "Don't make that mistake again," he said. "Or else, the consequences will be much more severe than a broken foot." The man released her.

"Ow!" she cried out in pain as she collapsed once again. Her heart pounded against the cold floor, slowly taking in the air that she lost. She shivered, fearing what was in store for her.

"You're still going to help me, whether you like it or not," the man said. Jessica sighed, submitting to him. "You will take this crank," he said. He walked over to a nearby bench and obtained a violet-stained hand crank. He handed it to Jessica. "Walk over to that suit in the corner," the man said. Jessica turned to one of the corners, noticing an animatronic suit. She walked over to it and inspected it carefully. It seemed to be one of the older and original models, one of the ones that could switch between animatronic and suit. It didn't seem wearable in its current form.

"Now what?" Jessica asked.

"I want you to attach the crank to a long bolt near the animatronic's neck. Can you see it?" Jessica went behind the animatronic, attempting to brace herself from the stench that came from it. She looked at the neck piece, and noticed a long bolt.

"I found it," Jessica said. She put the crank over the bolt, and she heard a faint click.

"Now, I want you to turn the crank counter-clockwise." Jessica nodded, and turned the crank. The suit seemed to tighten even more though, and after putting even more tension, a series of loud snaps echoed through the room. The man clenched his fists in anger as he stomped over to Jessica, towering over her menacingly.

"I'm sorry! I don't know what went wrong!" Jessica cried out as she backed away. William Afton clenched his metal fist and slammed it into Jessica's left shoulder. Jessica screamed out in agony as metal parts sticking out from the man's hand tore flesh from bone, scraping her shoulder raw. She clenched her teeth, watching as the man grinned and walked away from her.

"You better not make that same mistake again," William Afton said. Jessica squeezed her eyes shut, unable to bear the pain that had come with the man's attack on her shoulder. She pressed her hand against the wound, but that only made it worse. She gave up, collapsing onto the floor. Tears started to well up in my eyes, and soon she was weeping helplessly as the pain was too intense for her to manage. She screamed at the top of her lungs, as the pain in her shoulder only became more intense.

"I'm sorry!" she cried out. This time, Afton didn't listen. He opened a metal door and locked it behind him, leaving Jessica alone in the room. She shivered in fear for the first time in months, and she knew deep down that this would only get worse. She watched as the world faded from her eyes once again.


	8. Chapter 8

Jessica found herself inside a dark room once again. It was the same room with the same equipment lying around. Jessica looked at her shoulder, which was wrapped up with some sort of gauze. It felt sore to her, but it wasn't exactly as painful as it had been before. She looked around the room, and her eyes landed on William Afton using some sort of tool on the animatronic she had failed to open previously.

"Ah, you're awake," the man said. "I took care of your shoulder, after all what was a pretty nasty wound," he said mocking an empathetic tone. He reached for his pocket and pulled out an old pocket watch with a chain hanging from it. He opened it and checked the time. "You've been out for a couple of hours."

"How do I know you won't do it again?" Jessica asked fearfully. William Afton's last blow was the most painful thing she had experienced, and she did not want to experience it ever again.

"You don't," the man said. "You need to make sure you don't wrong me again." The man went back to his work, using some type of saw to cut into the animatronic suit that Jessica had ruined. He sighed, putting his tool down as he realized how pointless his attempts at restoring the animatronic were. "This was the last of the springlock models, and you destroyed it."

"Sorry," Jessica blankly said. Though he had caused her great pain the last time, she was at the same time grateful. _'Perhaps I did a good thing by destroying the last of those spring-lock suits,'_ she thought to herself.

The man turned around, eyeing her maliciously. His eyes glowed a dim white, yet it seemed more like burning flames were in his eyes. The flames were more of a white, yet they had touches of gray. They were completely terrifying to her nonetheless. "Sorry doesn't cut it," he said. "Now you're going to have to help me," he said as he released Jessica's chains. He stepped out of the room for a moment, leaving the door open. Jessica's eyes darted around the room, looking for something—anything that could be used to put William Afton down so that she could escape.

Her eyes landed on a crowbar propped against a wall. She poised herself to get to her feet, yet she stopped herself as she heard heavy footsteps echo from the hall. As the footsteps drew closer, she ran from her seat and bolted towards the wall. She grabbed the crowbar and pressed her back against the wall. Her heart pounded against her chest, realizing there was no going back from what she had done. The footsteps finally met with the door, and William Afton stepped in. Wasting no time, Jessica ran straight towards him.

The man turned his head towards Jessica. He frowned at her as she drew closer to him. She raised the crowbar up in the air, ready to strike him down when she felt a hand grab her arm and hold it in place, while another arm removed the crowbar from her grip. She turned to her right, and found herself being held in place by Charlie. Charlie gave Jessica a disappointed look.

"You just had to get your hands dirty," Charlie said. Jessica's heart struggled to circulate blood around her body. Thousands of words spun around in her head—she could not find the right words to say. Eventually, it came to her.

"So John was right," Jessica said at last. She waited for a moment, expecting Charlie to respond to her statement, but there was no response. She was only given a slight grin. She continued. "You've been tricking us this whole time. You never were Charlie," she said. Her hands shook in fear. Charlie tightened her grip on Jessica's hands.

"I am Charlie, just not _your_ Charlie." she said confidently. Charlie ran her finger through Jessica's hair, making her clench her teeth.

"I don't understand," Jessica said with uncertainty. Her heart threatened to burst out of her chest. Her breathing was unstable, and she shivered.

"You were never meant to understand," Charlie said. She let go of Jessica and threw her down on the ground. She grinned and bent down, putting her hand over the side of her leg. She pressed against the side of her leg, and in an instant as if she pressed a button, the illusion of her being Charlie shattered. Instead, she looked much more robotic. She had the resemblance of a clown girl, complete with a painted face, a red skirt and breastplate, green eyes, and orange hair with two pigtails sticking out on either side. There were short metal rods that stuck out from her arms and legs, rods which held the same shape as her previous form. The rods snapped into place.

"These are the wonders of technology," William Afton remarked. "Why spend all this time trying to create life, when the mind can do it for you?" he said.

"Is that some sort of philosophical question?" Jessica scoffed at him. He turned her attention to the clown animatronic that had been posing as Charlie for months. Many questions popped into her head, but she focused on just one. "Why all this?"

"Why what?" the man asked. He seemed to understand the question, but he demanded clarification given his expression.

"Why did you build an animatronic designed to pose as Charlie?" Jessica asked. The man hesitated for what seemed like minutes.

"I believe you have been misinformed," the man said. "I did not create this animatronic that is standing before you. My old partner was the one that created her, from the sleek appearance that she possesses—to the marvelous mechanisms that power her; I simply gave it a purpose to live by."

"Henry would never build an animatronic designed to mimic another person," she said. "The only animatronics he ever built were the ones at Freddy's." Her mind was numb, she felt as if she was lost in a jungle, one with spiders and other dangerous creatures that crawled all over her, while she tried to find her way out.

"That is where you're wrong," the man said. "All this technology you see, from Baby's behavior, to her appearance—it all came from my old partner," he said boldly. "I simply cannot take credit for Baby's creation. For years, I have longed to replicate that piece of technology that my old partner had originally invented, with limited success," the man said. "Those animatronics that hunted Charlie down months ago were my proudest achievements."

"It is relieving to know you are incompetent," Jessica said. "It makes you look like a fool."

"Trust me, I'm far from a fool," the man said. "It was always a gambit to become partners with Henry. His knowledge of animatronics was extensive. He was intelligent, but he clung on to things too much. That would inevitably lead to his downfall."

Jessica sighed. "So you planned on taking down Henry from the start?" she asked.

"He was just a tool to me," William Afton said. "Once he had outlived his purpose, I threw him away."

"So what do you want with Charlie?" Jessica asked.

"There is more to her than meets the eye," he said. "I killed her all those years ago, yet she came back." Jessica's eyes widened at this revelation.

"So how is she alive?" Jessica asked. William Afton's answer was as cryptic as it was terrifying:

"It's quite simple," he began. "She isn't alive."

* * *

_A hand was stroking her hair. The sun was setting over a field of grain. Birds flew overhead. "I'm so happy to be here with you," a kind voice said. She looked up at her father who smiled down at her, but there were tears in his eyes. 'Don't cry, Daddy,' she wanted to say, but when she tried to speak, the words did not come. She reached up to touch his face, but her hand passed through air: he was gone, and she was alone in the field of grass._

_"Daddy!" Charlie screamed, but there was no answer. It was dark. Charlie stood unsteadily; by some trick of time she was no longer a child, but a teenage girl, and the fields around her had turned to rubble; she stood in the midst of a ruined place, but there was a single wall standing in front of her, and a door in the center of it. Someone was crying on the other side of the door, crying alone in a small, cramped space. She ran to it, banging her fists on the metal surface. "Let me in!" she cried out. "Let me in! I have to get inside!"_

_'I have to get inside!'_ Charlie bolted awake, sitting upright with a ragged gasp, inhaling as if she'd escaped from drowning. _'The doors—the closet.'_ She threw off the gray blanket that had been placed over her, tangling herself in the process before she managed to get free. She was so hot she could barely stand it. She felt strange, more alert: the world was in sharp focus, and it was jarring, as if she had been drifting in some kind of shadowy, half-conscious state for days. _'Everything hurts,'_ she tried to say out, but there was something blocking her words; a buffer between her body and mind. Now, her mind clear, the buffer was gone and she ached all over, a dull, constant pain that seemed to be everywhere at once.

The pain subsided ever so slightly. Charlie got to her knees, not trusting of her legs which ached in pain. She had woken not to sleepy disorientation—she was very alert. She steadied herself as she got to her feet, but was instantly dizzy, her head swimming as her knees threatened to buckle under her. Charlie gripped at the couch, picking a point on the wall and staring at it, willing to room to stop spinning.

After a moment, it did, and Charlie realized the wall she was staring at was a door. _'Doors.'_ The thought made her light-headed, but she kept a firm hand on the couch. She glanced around the room, unsure of where she was. The shades were pulled down, and she could see that the front door was bolted shut. She turned to the other door, and Charlie shivered as her past dreams echoed in her head. _'Doors. Someone was on the other side, behind the door, somewhere small and dark; I was drawing them; I had to find the door. Then ...'_ she closed her eyes, remembering. They were running, desperate to get away as the building thundered around them, already falling to pieces. _'The door called to me; it was hidden in the wall, but I went to it, I knew exactly where it was. As I walked toward it, it was like I was on both sides—walking to it, and trapped behind it. Separated from myself. When I touched it, I could feel the beating of your heart, and then ...'_ Charlie's eyes snapped open, suddenly alert again. She realized her mistake of getting lost in her thoughts. She had done that many times before, but only now had she begun to regret that trait of her.

A muffled voice echoed around the room. Charlie turned to face the source of the muffled voice which she could not make out, yet to her the tone sounded familiar to her. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, however she came to the conclusion that if the voice is familiar, it must be important. The voice came from somewhere down the main hallway. After a brief moment of hesitation, she got to her feet and began her slow pace.

As she got closer to the source of the noise, she was able to make out more and more. It seemed to her like a casual kind of conversation with someone else, yet there was only one person speaking. It was likely that the person was speaking into a phone or something of the sort. _'Should I really be doing this?'_ she thought to herself. She initially thought it was a good idea to confront any one present in the house, but on second thought, she realized that might not be the best course of action. _'I need to figure out where I am, and why I'm here,'_ she said to herself in her mind.

She was about to turn around and go back into the living room when John stepped into the hallway. He looked at Charlie with a surprised expression. "Charlie!" John said. "You're awake."

She failed to recognize the man standing before her. She tilted her head, and it took a few seconds for her to figure it out. "John?"

"I'm surprised you're awake," he said. "You looked like hell when I found you."

"I _feel_ like hell," Charlie said. "Everything hurts, but it isn't too bad."

"Okay," he said. "That's good to hear." He gestured Charlie to follow him out the room. Charlie nodded, going into the living room with him. He sat down on the couch. Charlie sat down next to him, her heart pounding.

"What do you remember?" he asked. Charlie closed her eyes, unsure where to begin. She scrolled through the last moments of her life before her slumber. Eventually, almost like searching for a needle in a stack of hay, she found it.

"I was in my childhood home," she began. "Well, _beneath_ my childhood home," she corrected herself. "I ran into Spring-trap. When I demanded answers for why he took Sammy, his answer was unusual. He said that he didn't take Sammy, but that he took me," she said. She shivered upon saying that, feeling a deep pit inside her stomach.

"He's a very cryptic person, trust me," he said. He recalled William Afton's explanation as to why he murdered the kids a year and a half ago: _'They're home with me.'_ He sighed and turned back to Charlie. "What else do you remember?"

"I know that the last thing I told you was 'don't let go John," she said. Her heart seemed to ache upon saying that, as if it was something extremely important to him.

John put a hand over Charlie's shoulder and smiled, knowing for sure that the person she was with was truly Charlie. "It's going to be alright, for now you need to take it easy," he said. "Do you remember anything else that happened after that?"

"No I don't," she said. "How long has it been since I blacked out?" she asked, noticing the obvious signs that John has aged.

"Six months," John said. "You've been out for six months," John repeated.

Charlie swallowed hard. "Six months?" Her blood turned to ice as this revelation came to her. "How could I have been alive that long?" she asked, slightly panicked.

"I don't know. I found you stuffed in a chest at your aunt's house." He almost seemed embarrassed by saying this, yet he knew he had to tell the truth.

"That..." she began, unsure of what to say. Her mind turned into what seemed like an endless soup of thoughts and emotions. "I don't understand any of this. I remember finding that door I had been drawing in my notebook all through college. I put my ear up to it—I remember hearing someone crying on the other side of it, but their voice was that of a girl, almost like mine, but older."

"I'm sorry that you couldn't get her out of there," he said. "But I fear that whatever was locked inside that closet, was locked inside with good reason," he said as a chill traveled down his spine. He very well knew that the girl Charlie had been attempting to make contact with months ago was the same person that had been posing as Charlie.

"How could it ever be right to lock a girl inside a closet like that?" Charlie asked.

"There's a lot you don't understand," he said. "You've been gone for six months, but all this time someone has been taking your place."

Charlie's eyes widened. "Someone was _impersonating me_?" she asked. Her heart pounded thumped against her chest at speeds faster than a train.

"Mhm." John stretched his legs out. "I don't know anything about her, other than the fact that she's a bad actor. She can't even get my favorite food right."

"Why though? Why was someone taking my place, and how?" Charlie asked. All she wanted was answers to every question that she had. To her, it was like she had a six month gap in her head.

"I'm not sure exactly, but I do know that it was an animatronic. Do you remember those illusion discs that William Afton used to lure kids? Well that animatronic used one of those discs to pass herself off as you."

Charlie looked down. Having a physical ache was one thing, but finding out she had been impersonated for months—it was horrifying to her. "Are you the only one that knows about this?" she asked.

"Only Clay and Carlton know," he said. "They're looking for Jessica right now." John pulled at his hair, which hadn't been cut in months.

"Well that doesn't give us much to work with," she said. She tried to get up from the couch, put John stopped her.

"Take it easy," John said. "One small step at a time."

Charlie sat back down. "Sorry, I'm just really on edge." She looked around the room, worried out of her mind. She felt as if she was being watched, yet she tried to ignore the feeling. "Do you have any food?" she asked, her stomach faintly growling. "I'm starving."

John sighed. "This isn't my home. I don't really feel comfortable rummaging through people's fridges," he said.

"Come on," Charlie began. "It's been six months. It is a miracle I'm even alive, I need something to eat."

"Alright," John said. "I'll look for something, but don't expect me to find anything," he said. Charlie nodded, and John went into the kitchen. Charlie closed her eyes again, wanting to believe that this was all an elaborate prank set up by John. Of course, this was just wishful thinking. There was proof that what John was saying was true. He had aged noticeably, and to her John looked like hell. She remembered what John had told her before. _'Someone has been taking your place.'_ The first thing that popped into her mind was _why_. _'Why would Springtrap want to impersonate me?'_

The question went over her head. Though there were the obvious ones, such as spying and social engineering, those didn't seem important enough to her to warrant building an entire animatronic designed to look like her. She was confused and light-headed. Her entire body ached, she was thirsty and was starving. A high-pitched noise rang in her ears, and the echoes of her nightmares never seemed to fade away.

John walked back into the room. He was holding a plate with two sandwiches on it. He walked over to Charlie and placed the plate on the coffee table. "It isn't much, but it was the best I could do. I'm not much of a cook anyway," he said.

Charlie smiled. "It's okay," she said. "It's enough for me. I'll eat almost anything if I'm starving this much." She picked up a sandwich and took a large bite out of it. John watched as she quickly ate the first sandwich, and soon moved on to the second one. John smiled as he walked toward his bag that he brought with him. He opened it up and dug inside it. He pulled out Theodore's head and the journal he had wrote. He placed the journal face-down on the ground, not wanting Charlie to see it. She would likely be uncomfortable finding a journal scribbled in with everything about herself.

John reached into his bag again and pulled out a doll that Clay had given him. It was Charlie's Ella doll, the one that always gave John a creepy feeling. Charlie finished her sandwich and turned to face John. She tried to get on her feet but only groaned as she sat back down.

"Relax," John said. "Here, I'll bring it to you," he said. John sat down next to Charlie and gave her the Ella doll. "Clay gave it to me."

"Huh," Charlie said. "It doesn't look like it aged well." She studied its features, which had mostly remained intact. There were some dents and dirt all over it, but it was still noticeably Ella.

"It certainly hasn't," he said. He noticed what appeared to be a small button on Ella's shoe. "Hey, do you see that button on her shoe?" he asked.

Charlie turned the doll and looked at her shoes. After a brief moment of studying them, she found it: a small button smaller than the head of a nail, sticking out. Charlie tilted her head and she put her finger over it. "I'm going to press it," she said. John nodded, allowing her to do it. Charlie pressed the button, and a faint humming sound echoed around the room. John and Charlie looked around the room, trying to find the source of the noise; it seemed to be coming from everywhere. When the noise stopped, Ella was gone. She had been replaced by what seemed to be a toddler. The toddler looked just like Ella, except that she seemed much more lifelike. Ella was much more lifelike. Charlie ran her fingers through Ella's hair, and her eyes widened. "She looks pretty convincing," she said.

"I know," John said. "Your father made this doll, right?" John asked.

"Yeah. I don't remember much, but he did make her look like me," she said. John closed his eyes and shook his head.

"This doesn't make sense," he said. He pulled the shoe off from Ella, and attached to her foot revealed exactly what John was expecting: a small, black-painted disc. This disc, however, was not marked. It didn't have 'Afton Robotics LLC' printed on it, unlike the other animatronics. There was no LED attached to it either. Charlie and John looked at each other, as if they were thinking the same exact thing.

"I thought William Afton was the one that made those," John said.

"At least that is what we _thought_. Still, why would my father put one of those on one of my dolls?" Charlie asked. She shivered anxiously, unsure of what to do.

"Maybe he wanted to give you company after Sammy died," John said uncertainly.

"By making a doll of me?" Charlie asked.

"Maybe. Look, I don't really know, it's just a guess. We'll get through this. I gave Marla a call a while ago, she is supposed to come over. We can talk about everything then," he said. He felt as though the world around him was changing into something completely unrecognizable.


	9. Chapter 9

"What do you mean she wasn't alive?" Jessica asked. William Afton's explanation as for why Charlie survived being killed was vague and mysterious.

"I want you to humor me," he began. "What does it mean to be alive?"

Jessica rolled her eyes. She attempted to wiggle the chains so that they could become loose from their hooks.

"Those won't break," the man said. "There's no point in trying to escape."

"Whatever you say," Jessica said as she looked the other way. "Why am I even here in the first place?"

"Because you knew too much," the man said as he sat down in a chair. "We didn't want your friends to know that she was after them, or that she had been posing as Charlie. It would have put a large fork in my plan," he said. He reached for his desk and grabbed some sort of tool that Jessica couldn't recognize.

 _'Baby... Circus Baby.'_ Jessica began to piece it together in her head. "This is Circus Baby's Pizza, that new kids place," she said at last. The man smiled proudly, but after a brief moment the smile faded.

"Don't be too proud of herself," he said. "I have work for you. You must help me make synthetic skin for myself."

"Synthetic skin?" Jessica asked. "What would you need that for?"

"It should be obvious. My appearance isn't quite inviting," he said.

"Well that's your own problem," Jessica said. "You got what you deserved for murdering those kids."

"Sadly, innovation often comes with bloodshed," he said. "A small price to pay for making progress."

"So you call building murderous animatronics 'innovation?'" Jessica asked. She pulled against her chain again.

"The ends justify the means," he said. "The kids may be dead, but their spirits live on. Their energy has allowed me to take on a more powerful form, enabling me to do things no human is capable of doing."

"You're harvesting their souls?" Jessica asked, her eyes widening with shock.

"I am indeed," the man confirmed. "One child's soul contains more energy than the amount of energy the sun will consume in its entire lifetime," he said. "It is the most potent form of energy, and one ounce of it could power this country for decades."

"So you want to use the souls of children as sources of energy? You truly make me sick."

"Dozens of people died building the Titanic. Many astronauts died during the missions to the Moon. Hundreds died during the creation of this country," he said. "Death is just a number. It is meaningless."

Jessica sighed. "Millions of people were rounded up and sent to brutal labor camps in Russia. Was that for a noble cause?"

"Yes," he said. William Afton loosened Jessica's chains so that she could get up. "You will help me make synthetic skin now. You have no choice in the matter."

* * *

"So we're just going to walk into Circus Baby's?" Carlton asked. He sat in the passenger seat of a police car, driven by Clay Burke. Though he had tried to stay calm and confident during most of the trip, his doubts were too much to ignore.

"That's right," Clay Burke said. "There should be just enough guests for us to blend in seamlessly." Clay seemed to be confident in his plan, after all it was just a kid's place.

"Yeah sure," Carlton said. "Circus Baby broke into our house and tried to kill us. She knows _exactly_ who we are, and she probably expects us to be coming," Carlton said.

"I have just the solution for that," Clay said. He took a sharp turn to the right, going off the main road. "I know a shop that sells costumes. If we could get a clown costume for us, we would be in the clear." The car passed by several lights. The sky was starting to brighten up a little as the haze from the sunrise became visible, though it would be quite some time before it would become morning.

"For me, maybe," Carlton said. "But do you seriously think they have clown costumes for someone your age?" he asked. Clay kept his eyes on the road, but it was clear that he had been struck by this question.

"It's better than nothing," Clay said. "We should just wait and see what happens," Clay said.

The car pulled into a parking lot. There were a series of storefronts along the lot, one of which was a theater. Clay stepped out of the car and gestured Carlton to follow. When Carlton got out of the car, they walked toward a dollar store. They stepped inside and were greeted with warm orange lights and a definite lonely feel. It seemed as though the place had not been visited frequently. The store itself was very small, and there was only one person present: the one tending the cash machine, presumably the owner as well. He seemed to be in his sixties, and it baffled the two on why he was still working when he could have retired. Clay walked towards the owner and studied his name tag.

"Chris," Clay began. "Do you happen to have any clown costumes lying around?" he asked.

"I think I do," Chris began, his voice scratchy. "A bunch of kids came over here a couple of days ago. There was this pizza place that gave out food for free if they wore a clown suit. Needless to say, they almost wiped out my entire stock." He turned to the back of the store and looked for a spare suit.

"I know the feeling," Clay said. "Does this affect the price of the costumes?" he asked, almost hesitating to do so.

"Of course it does," Chris said. "I'm not going to give it to you any cheaper." Chris bent over to reach for a long box. He picked it up and placed it down on the counter. "The only ones I have are those for teenagers." Clay studied the box, noticing a visible tear on it.

"This is used," Clay noticed. Chris sighed, sitting down in his chair.

"The price is seventy dollars. As I just said, I'm not lowering it."

"Fine," Clay said. He reached into his wallet and produced a one-hundred dollar bill. He placed it on the counter. "Will this do?"

"It's a hundred dollars," Chris said as he put the bill inside the cash register. He took out a ten and a twenty, and handed it to to Clay, "Here is your change."

Clay took the change and grabbed the costume box. He exited the store, and outside, Carlton stared at Clay with a hint of annoyance.

"You were pretty rude to him back there," Carlton said.

"You call bargaining the price rude?", Clay asked. Carlton stopped walking.

"What makes you think that wasn't rude?" Carlton asked.

"It was clearly used. It shouldn't have been seventy dollars," Clay said.

"Whatever. Let's just focus on finding Jessica." Clay nodded and he stepped inside the car. Carlton got inside too, and Clay drove away.

Carlton sat in the car for many long minutes. There was no conversation between the two until Clay parked the car a few blocks away from the pizza place. Clay got out of the car along with Carlton. HE placed the costume box on the ground and produced a knife from his belt. "You'll try this on over here. You shouldn't do it near that kids place." He cut a line with his knife through the box and opened it. He pulled out the costume as well as the mask and some accessories.

"It looks a little too small for me," Carlton said. He grabbed the costume and began putting it on. Just as he had noticed earlier, the costume was tighter than normal, though he was able to put it on. He inserted his arms into the sleeves, and buttoned the back of the costume.

"It is definitely too small for you," Clay said. "It's the only way though. You'll have to deal with it."

Carlton sighed. He took the mask from Clay and put it over his head. The mask fit on his head just fine, unlike the rest of the costume. He struggled to see through the small holes for his eyes. "The holes for my eyes are too small."

"Take the mask off and give it to me," Clay said. Carlton complied and gave him the mask. He placed the mask on the ground, and using his knife, he widened the holes for sight. Once he was done, he handed the mask to Carlton. "How is it now?"

Carlton put the mask over his head. He was able to see Clay's face more clearly, though his vision was not as good as what it was before wearing it. "It's better."

"Good," Clay said. The two walked towards the parking lot in which there was an Italian restaurant, a retail shop, as well as the one thing they were looking for: Circus Baby's Pizza. Carlton looked over to a bush which seemed to be a good place to hide and wait for the place to open. It was far from the entrance of the building, and there was a wall behind it which made it impossible for cars to see anyone behind it.

"We should go behind that bush and wait for the place to open," Carlton said. Clay nodded, and the two walked towards the bush. Once they were there, they waited whole minutes before the first car parked in the lot.

"I'm worried about Charlie," Carlton said. "What if Circus Baby is after her?" he asked.

"Don't worry about it, John has her covered," Clay said. "He said he was getting Marla too." A black pickup truck parked inside the lot, and a man in a sky blue uniform stepped out.

"Who is that out there?" Carlton asked.

Clay turned to the pizza restaurant. The man was walking toward the restaurant. "He's probably a security guard," Clay said.

The security guard inserted a key into the door and opened it. He stepped inside. Carlton tilted his head. "Is he going to open the place up?"

"He just did," Clay said. "If I were you, I wouldn't go inside until others start showing up though."

"What are you going to do then?" Carlton asked. "You don't have a costume, and Circus Baby definitely knows who you are."

"I'm going to stay out here. I'm going to be talking to you with one of these," Clay said as he handed over a walkie-talkie to Carlton. "Hide this somewhere in your costume so people don't know you have it."

"Do you think they would care if someone had one of these?" Carlton asked. "After all, kids love to play around with these things."

Clay sighed. "No. Kids might have liked playing around with those a decade ago, but now? No. They'll probably think you're some sort of undercover agent. Keep it concealed."

"Alright," Carlton said. He stuffed the walkie-talkie at the side of his waist beneath the costume. He hooked up the device to his belt. He pressed a button on his side, and a faint static noise rang from the device. He then spoke. "Can you hear me?"

Almost immediately, his voice registered on another walkie-talkie attached to Clay's belt. "It works," Clay said. "Wait here until some people come in to the restaurant."

"I think we came here a little too early," Carlton said as he rolled his sleeve back to check his watch. "It's only 7:04. Most of the kids would probably come at eight."

"It's better to wait here than to go back to the car and risk getting caught," Clay said. "Besides, we have a good view from here. It isn't like we are in the blistering heat; it's October."

"I guess you're right. I'll just stay here with you until the crowd shows up," Carlton said. He glanced out from the bush. A bright neon sign reading "OPEN" was showing, a light that had previously been powered off.

"John went to this place before us. I really should have asked him about all of this, but instead I took off with his information about Circus Baby's and now I have nothing."

"Relax," Clay said. "When you're in the building, I want you to scout out the entire area. Once you are done, tell me everything and we can formulate a plan to break Jessica out."

"Alright," Carlton said. His eyes landed on the parking lot and the surrounding stores. There weren't any cars parked except for those of employees. "It's probably going to be a while before people start showing up."

"That gives us valuable time," Clay said. "What do you know about Circus Baby, anyway?"

Carlton stretched his arms out. "Not much," he said. "After all, you woke me in the middle of the night to which an animatronic broke into the house and tried to kill us."

"That animatronic was Circus Baby," Clay said. "Do you remember us going to Aunt Jen's place?"

"I do," Carlton said. "It was only a couple of hours ago, my memory isn't _that_ terrible. I can't really say the same about Charlie." He rested his head against the bush.

"What's wrong with Charlie's memory?" Clay asked.

"Well she complains about how there are gaps everywhere. One moment she walks up to her closet, and the next moment she is sitting in her father's workshop," Carlton said. "I never understood it, but the gaps were definitely sparse."

"Well could it be amnesia?" Clay asked.

"Maybe," Carlton said. "I also don't understand how she could have survived being springlocked to death."

"Charlie was at Aunt Jen's house. She most likely took care of her," Clay said.

"It would have been better if she went to the hospital," Carlton said. "Unless..." Carlton paused.

Clay turned away from the parking lot, and focused on Carlton. "Unless what?"

"What if Aunt Jen knew someone would pose as Charlie?" Carlton asked.

"That doesn't seem to make much sense," Clay said. "Aunt Jen more so seemed to think Circus Baby was the actual Charlie, even though Charlie was locked inside a chest in her bedroom."

Carlton shivered. "I don't like this. I have a feeling that all of this goes much deeper than just an animatronic that is trying to spy on us." A car zoomed by them, parking in the lot. A 30 year old man and a kid in a clown costume came out of the car. They began walking towards the pizza place.

"It looks like people are starting to show up," Clay said. "Look, we can worry about this Charlie business when we actually talk with John and Charlie."


	10. Chapter 10

_'I don't want to be seen.'_

Marla walked gracefully along the dark sidewalk. The cover of buildings to her left kept her in the dark, which was perfect for her to stay undetected. She, of course, had no idea what she was up against. When John gave her a call a half-an-hour ago, he was quite vague. She closed her eyes as she slowed down her walk to an eventual stop, attempting to recall the memory.

_"I want you to stay hidden. You could end up in serious trouble if she catches you,"_ _John said to her. Of course, Marla asked the obligatory 'why' right after, but his responses were still vague. All John told her was that Charlie wasn't real, which Marla still couldn't understand. "When you get to the apartment, I'll tell you everything," John finally said before hanging up. Marla stood there for a few minutes thinking about her situation, before grabbing her keys and driving away._

Marla opened her eyes as she pushed the memory away. _'_ _I have to trust him_.' She continued her stroll down the beaten concrete sidewalk that had certainly seen better days. There was garbage lying around on the street, which did not improve her outlook on the community she had just entered. After crossing two blocks, she found it: the apartment complex that Jessica resided in. She began to inch toward the crosswalk leading to the complex, but she stopped as she noticed rays of light being cast on the street, and even more so the rest of the complex. John's voice seemed to come back in her head: _"I want you to stay hidden."_ Marla sighed, knowing that she would need to break into a sprint to remain undetected from whatever force John warned her about.

After a brief gulp, Marla dashed across the street, completely ignoring traffic. After the loud honking of a car horn to her right, she found herself at the other end of the street. She turned away from the cars that were stuck at the intersection, and she walked towards the entrance of the complex. As she entered, it was clear that she had come too late: the sun already filled the interior of the complex with its bright rays, enough light to give her away, not that it even mattered. The more she pondered it, the more she realized just how foolish she had been the past few minutes; she would have obviously been seen walking along the sidewalk, even if it was pitch black at night.

Marla walked over to Jessica's apartment. She walked up the few steps that led to the porch, and rang the doorbell. After a brief moment of silence, the door began to unlock itself. Marla backed away from the door to avoid getting struck with the door, and seconds later the it swung open. Marla turned to her left so she could study the person at the door, and it was more or less a familiar face: John. His reaction was not quite pronounced, yet he did seem happy she was here.

"Marla. Good, you're okay." John gave Marla a faint smile, before quickly turning around and going inside the apartment. The apartment, at least to Marla, seemed like a sort of mess in a way. It was as if the original resident of the apartment had been replaced with someone else who did not hold their same tastes. When John realized Marla did not follow him, he turned around and gestured her to come inside. Marla forced a smile and nodded, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

"Please lock the door," John said nervously. "I don't want us to have any unexpected guests." He seemed to be sincere in his fears, and to Marla it did not seem like a half-hearted attempt at humor in the slightest form. Marla took a steady turn to the door knob, and specifically the locking mechanism. She attempted to rotate it to the left, but after it did not budge, she turned it to the right. After hearing a loud click from the lock, she turned back.

She glanced around the room she was standing in: it was very well a living room. There was a sofa, a television set, and a large coffee table painted in some sort of brown, perhaps unpainted and just being the natural color of the wood. A couple of bookshelves were propped up against the walls, and a painting hung over the wall behind the couch. She turned to John, who seemed to be as nervous as Marla was.

"So what's this about anyway?" Marla asked shyly.

"It's about Charlie," John began. He motioned Marla to sit down on the sofa. Marla nodded, and she sat down on the left side of the couch. John took the right seat. "The woman who has been claiming to be Charlie all these months wasn't Charlie."

"You've been saying that since the day she arrived," Marla said in a weak attempt to prove him wrong.

"Do you remember that animatronic I saw inside the wreckage of the house?" John asked.

"Yeah. What are you on to?" Marla asked.

"That animatronic and Charlie..." he took a deep breath, attempting to choose his words wisely. "They have the same exact shape and appearance."

"It could just be your mind playing tricks on you," Marla said, but it was only after she said those words that she truly began to ponder it. _'What if Charlie was that animatronic?'_ Of course, it didn't make much sense to her. Charlie looked like a human being, not an animatronic. Then, her words came back to her again: _'...your mind playing tricks on you.'_ That was it. A few months back, William Afton's "twisted" animatronics used some sort of disc to fool the brain into thinking they had nightmarish forms. It was entirely possible that a similar thing happened with Charlie: the animatronic John saw was simply pretending to be Charlie.

"I know what you're going to say—something about illusion discs," Marla said before John could refute her last argument.

"So you believe me?" John asked as he tilted his head to the right.

"Let's just say your theory is a little less insane," Marla said. She threw her head back on the couch, yawning.

"It's not a theory," John corrected her. "It's the truth."

Marla sat up and looked into John's eyes. "There's no evidence. Only the weak comparison between her face and that of an animatronic." John sighed as he got up from the couch.

"Charlie, you can come out now," John said out loud. From the kitchen, Charlie walked into the living room. She seemed much younger than before, at least to Marla. She stood speechless, unsure of how to react.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," Charlie said. She looked at Marla, studying her expression with great interest. "I'm glad you're here, though I wish the circumstances were better."

"You look a lot younger than you should after six months," Marla said.

"I don't understand it either," Charlie said. "Regardless, our situation is dire."

"I don't get what you mean. You have an imposter, that's it right?" Marla asked, unsure of herself.

"Not exactly," John said as he forced himself into the conversation. "Jessica is gone, but her car is still here."

Marla's heart froze. She closed her eyes, her optimism trying to take the best of her as she searched for the most comforting explanation. "Maybe she's just out," Marla said.

"That's very unlikely. Marla never travels far on foot, she always drives when it comes to traveling even a few blocks," John said. "She is either hiding somewhere, or she was kidnapped."

Marla sighed as she got up from the couch. "John, can we talk alone?"

"Sure," John said. He gestured Marla to follow him to a far off room. When Marla got inside, he closed the door behind her. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Where did you find Charlie?" Marla asked as she put her palm against the wall.

"I found her at Aunt Jen's house. Why do you want to know?"

"Where exactly did you find her?" Marla asked again.

John sighed. "I found her locked inside a chest in a spare bedroom. I was surprised that she was even alive, not to mention the fact that she seemed healthy."

"And you're not suspicious at all? Why didn't you confront Aunt Jen about this?"

"Because the other Charlie _murdered_ her," John said. "I didn't tell that to Charlie because it would devastate her."

Marla's heart seemed to stop for a moment. For a whole minute, she stood speechless. She closed her eyes, attempting to picture such a thing, but she couldn't. She opened her eyes, her mind fresh. "Wait, so the other Charlie followed you into Aunt Jen's house?" she asked.

"Yes. It wasn't just me though, Clay and Carlton were there too. That was likely when Jessica disappeared."

"This is just crazy," Marla said. "I hope Jessica's okay."

"I hope so too," John said.

* * *

Carlton looked out from behind the bush. The parking lot was much denser than it was the last time they checked. There were people in clown costumes coming out of cars, and parents followed too. Carlton turned to Clay, who was also looking out at the parking lot. "I have an idea."

"What's your idea?" Clay asked.

"You could pretend to be a parent of mine," Carlton said.

"I am your parent. Besides, the whole point of dressing you up was so Circus Baby couldn't tell who you are. Should I remind you that Circus Baby broke into my house and tried to kill me?"

"I get it," Carlton said. He looked out from the bush again. The parking lot was even more populated with cars than before. "I think it is safe to go out."

"Then go out. Don't be in there for more than thirty minutes," he said.

"Alright." Carlton came out from behind the bush in his clown costume, and he walked into the parking lot. He studied the scene, and realized something: all of the children in clown costumes were accompanied by parents. He let out a sigh, realizing he wouldn't be able to go in without a parent. He turned towards the hill where the bush was located, but he stopped himself and pressed a button on the walkie-talkie attached to his waist.

"Can you hear me?" Carlton said into the device.

"I can hear you," Clay's voice echoed from the device just loud enough for Carlton to hear.

"All of the kids are accompanied by parents. I don't think I'll be able to go inside without you."

"You're an adult, not a kid," Clay said before clearing his throat. "I think you'll be able to go inside just fine, as long as you blend in."

"Got it." He turned back to the parking lot and walked towards the pizzeria. It was decorated with depictions of clowns in a circus, something that he was not fond of but ignored. He approached the entrance. The door was wide open, and there were statues of clowns at both sides. After a deep breath, he stepped inside. He found himself in some sort of lobby with seats peppered along the walls. The walls themselves were decorated, but he did not pay attention to them. "I'm in some sort of waiting area," he whispered.

"Go directly into the main area," Clay spoke.

"Okay," Carlton whispered. He turned to his right and walked through the entrance to the main area. There were tables on both sides of the main area, and a large circular stage in the center. There was a singing animatronic on the stage: Circus Baby. She held a microphone, and the audience was cheering her. There were several other rooms to the right and left of him. There was also a large hallway that is behind everything. It was hard to ignore the kids playing and yelling in the background, but he tried his best to not be distracted. There were arcade machines along the walls to his left.

He turned to the right. Apart from the ball pit and some more tables, there was a door which read "EMPLOYEES ONLY." Of course he would have to enter, knowing it would probably be where Jessica was, but it would be difficult to avoid getting caught. He slowly began inching towards the door, not exactly wanting to be seen. The children certainly were not a problem, but of course the Circus Baby animatronic would. He would need to seem innocent, and Carlton was never good at pretending.

Carlton stood right before the "EMPLOYEES ONLY" door. He put his hand out to open it, but his blood froze as a shadow was cast over him. He turned around, and his heart stopped as he realized who it was: Circus Baby. She towered over him, giving him an intimidating sensation. "Didn't you read the sign? Only employees can enter."

Carlton sighed. He knew he was in trouble, and he would have to make a choice: either leave and never be able to come back, or bolt through the door. He chose the second one. He turned around and kicked open the door, dashing inside. He froze, realizing everything forward of him dropped down in the form of a deep stairwell.

"Come back here, now!" Circus Baby yelled. Carlton ignored her threats, and after taking a deep breath, he ran down the stairs. There were two stories of stairs, and when he reached the bottom, he was exhausted. He found himself in some sort of closet-like area. There were all sorts of loose parts, but he was relieved at the sight he saw: an elevator. Carlton stepped inside the elevator and closed the door behind him. There were two arrow buttons on the side, and the only option he had was to go down, so that was exactly what he did. He pressed the down button, and the elevator dropped.

The elevator stopped with a loud thump. Before stepping out of the carriage, Carlton took the time to study the carriage itself. The walls were made gray and white vertical stripes. The floor was made of steel grates, and many wires hung from the ceiling. There were many small ceiling lights that seeped to pepper the perimeter of the carriage, and there was a large spinning fan on the ceiling. There was a keypad off to the side, but he did not understand what it was for; the buttons were unmarked.

He stepped out of the elevator carriage. There was a small gap between the carriage and the room it led to. Carlton carefully walked over the gap, making sure to not fall in the gap. Carlton was greeted with yellow and black tape covering what seemed to be a small vent ahead of him. Looking to his right, there were crates and boxes scattered all around, and even more loose wires. The walls were blue and purple vertical stripes, the same material as the inside of the elevator carriage. Carlton turned to his left, seeing the same pattern—boxes and crates everywhere. There were white lights that dotted the walls, but left a slight yellow hue to the ceiling. Carlton sighed and pressed a button on his walkie-talkie.

"Circus Baby caught me dashing into the Employees Only room. I went down the elevator, and I seem to be in some sort of underground facility."

"Could you describe the facility?" Clay asked.

"There are boxes everywhere. I'm standing right in front of a vent, and the room around me is circular. I'll check the rest of it."

"Make sure you don't waste any time. You don't want Circus Baby to catch you."

"I know," Carlton said. He decided to walk left. The room around the elevator was circular. He walked halfway around the room, and a small detail caught his eye—a door. Carlton walked towards the door, which itself was not marked. "I found a door," Carlton said. He opened it and almost immediately, he was hit by hot air. Looking out, he was standing before a long hallway. The hallway had deep blue painted walls and a blue ceiling, and gray brick floor. The right side of the hallway closest to Carlton had a table standing—one in a very similar style to those in Freddy Fazbear's pizza, with a white tablecloth, and rainbow sprinkles over it. There were chairs propped atop of the table, and there was a brown box standing on the far side of it.

"I'm in some sort of hallway. There are tables and chairs everywhere. I'll go to the end of the hallway."

He took his mask and costume off. Carlton walked past the table. He noticed another crate hidden behind the table. He didn't bother checking out the crate, and instead continued walking down the hallway. A closed door stood a few meters away from the table, on the right side of the hallway. Carlton walked towards the door, which this time was marked with the words 'Testing Facility'. Carlton shivered upon reading this. "Testing facility? Testing for what? Animatronics?," he asked aloud.

"Huh?" Clay asked from his walkie-talkie.

"There's a room marked 'Testing Facility."

"You go in there then," Clay said. "You might find Jessica in there."

"Okay." Carlton opened the door, and all he found was darkness. The room wasn't lit, and he couldn't see inside. Carlton sighed, turning around and walking out of the room. He decided to look for something that could provide light—likely a flashlight. He walked over to one of of the crates, and began opening them one by one.

Eventually, he would find a small flashlight. He would pick up the blue painted flashlight, and he turned it on and off. It worked fine. Carlton turned back and walked inside the 'Testing Facility' room. He turned on his flashlight, revealing a flight of stairs that went down. _'Wonderful.'_

Carlton went down the dark stairwell. When he reached the bottom, he found a locked metal door. He banged on the door, but no one seemed to be on the other side. He turned around, and his entire body froze: Circus Baby was blocking the way. She was holding a keycard in her hand, most likely used to open the locked metal door.

"I didn't think someone of your type would do this," she said. "I suppose I was wrong."

"Carlton?" A voice rang from his walkie-talkie. "What's going on out there?" He reached for his walkie-talkie, but Circus Baby shook her head.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Carlton sighed as he put the walkie-talkie down.

"Why did you kidnap Jessica?" Carlton asked.

"Because she knew too much."

"What the hell do you mean by that?" Carlton asked.

"She was close to finding out who I really was."

"You're really stupid," Carlton said. "We all knew you weren't Charlie."

"It doesn't matter. You're not going anywhere." Circus Baby approached Carlton slowly. Carlton dashed towards Circus Baby. Her eyes widened as he knocked the keycard out of her hand.

"See that? I'm stronger than you!" Carlton said as he held the card in the air. Circus Baby was not amused, and she punched Carlton square in the forehead. "Ow!" he screeched in pain. He backed away as Circus Baby closed in on him.

"I'll chase you into that room, and you'll be stuck there forever," Circus Baby said. Carlton made a fist and turned around. He inserted the keycard into the card reader, and the door opened. He ran inside and saw Jessica chained to some sort of chair. There was equipment and animatronic parts everywhere, and a man in a suit stood proudly.

"Carlton?" Jessica asked as she looked up. "Why are you here?"

"No time!" Carlton said. He ran up to Jessica and untied the chains that were holding Jessica down. "You have to get out of here!" Carlton shouted. Jessica got up from her chair and ran out the door, completely passing by Circus Baby who was right behind Carlton.

"Let Jessica go, Carlton is a lot more valuable to us," the man said. "Take his keycard and lock the door."

Carlton frowned. "You'll have to try a lot harder than that, Afton." He turned around and tried to punch Circus Baby in the face, but it felt to him as if he was punching a brick wall. He clenched his teeth in pain. Circus Baby took the keycard from Carlton's hand and used it to lock the door behind her. She then handed it to William Afton.

"Good work," the man said. He walked over to Carlton and stared at him. "Your antics are not noble, if anything they're foolish."

"I came here to get Jessica out," Carlton said. "I completed my mission."

"I know," the man said. "Of course, the only reason I let Jessica go is because she won't get far. I have animatronics patrolling the hallways of this facility all the time. You are lucky you didn't get in contact with any of them."

"The only reason those animatronics weren't down here was because they were upstairs performing," Carlton said.

"That won't be a problem anymore," William Afton said. "The restaurant is closed now. The animatronics are coming down here, and there is nothing you can do about it."

"To hell with that! Why are you doing any of this? Why was Circus Baby pretending to be Charlie? Why did she kill Aunt Jen?" Carlton asked.

"Too many questions," William Afton said. "I need answers."

"What answers?" Carlton asked in a loud voice.

"You will tell me where Charlie is," William Afton demanded. "Then I might let you go."

"Over my dead body!" Carlton boldly said. He was shaking, he knew he was in serious trouble.

"Then you will experience eternal torment," William Afton said. Carlton chuckled.

"What kind of torment, huh? Are you gonna torture me? Oh by the way, my father is gonna break into the pizzeria in twenty minutes if I don't come out."

"That would be a very foolish decision," William Afton said. "The kind of torment you will receive will make waterboarding seem like a pleasant beach walk."

"Try me," Carlton said. His boldness soon turned to fear as he saw Circus Baby holding a syringe. Carlton backed away, but William Afton held him in place.

"You're not going anywhere."


	11. Chapter 11

_'I have to get out of here!'_

Sounds of laughter and screaming echoed all around her. Jessica ran up the long flight of stairs tirelessly, her adrenaline not giving up. Her legs were already stiff from the running, and she had not even reached the top of the staircase. Her heart was pounding so hard that the only things she heard were the sounds of her blood pumping, and the relentless laughter that echoed around her.

She finally reached the top. Jessica found herself standing before a closed door. _'I don't remember closing this.'_ She sighed, not having any time to question why it was open. She turned the knob of the door and pulled it toward her. Her blood turned to ice as she looked out the door—

There was an animatronic standing outside the door. The animatronic wore sharp claws and teeth, and it seemed to be a creature of terror. It looked like Freddy, but with purple paint scattered about and a sleek design. Just the sight of the thing made her head spin. She realized she would need to fight her way past the animatronic in order to escape. She backed away a few feet, and using all the energy she could muster, she kicked the animatronic hard in the stomach area. The animatronic was pushed back to the side, and Jessica used this short time to brush past the animatronic and exit into the main hallway.

The main hallway was dark. The only lights were the red flashing lights that were attached to the walls. The sound of a siren going off echoed throughout the halls, not too loud to drown out other sounds though. Jessica turned around and slammed the door shut behind her, and she made a sharp left. She ran down the hall, ignoring the red blaring lights. She moved past piles of boxes and equipment lying around, being careful to not trip on them. She reached the end of the hallway, finding herself standing before a door labeled "Baby's Rentals."

 _'Baby's Rentals?'_ she thought to herself, unsure of what it meant. She decided to ignore it, and she opened the door. Beyond the door there was a large cylinder-shaped object with black windows spread around. She moved past it, realizing it was the elevator. She stood in front of the elevator and she pressed the button to open the door. After ten seconds, the door opened, but she jumped back in shock as she realized there was something in the elevator.

There were two animatronics, both of which had a similar designs: one was a large metallic fox which was covered in white glossy paint. It bore teeth that were rather sharp but not too sharp, similar to Foxy from Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. It wore a large speaker in the center of its chest, and a large orange stripe spanned from the bottom of the body to the top, finishing up with a purple bowtie. The animatronic's snout was also painted in orange, having purple painted lips and cheeks. The animatronic had no eyes and instead had large black holes in place of them, with two glowing spheres in the centers of them. The other animatronic was very similar, but the orange and purple had been replaced with all-around pink. The animatronic had definite eyes which were colored in yellow, and it had a hook that was rather sharp.

Jessica raised an eyebrow, puzzled by the fact that the animatronics did not try to attack her yet. _'Maybe they don't see me?'_ she thought to herself. She took a step closer to the elevator, but she froze as the animatronics opened their jaws, poised to bite. _'It's too late,'_ she thought as she anticipated an attack. The orange-painted fox came first, swinging an arm at Jessica. She crouched down to avoid getting struck, and the orange-painted fox's arm slammed into the elevator control panel. Jessica's heart stopped as she realized what had happened, and she was completely filled with fear and dread. Of course, she didn't have time to plot an escape route, she had to run away from the animatronics as quickly as possible.

Jessica dashed out of the elevator carriage. As the orange-painted fox animatronic removed their fist from the elevator control panel, Jessica was now staring down at a large vent. The vent was certainly large enough for her to enter, and as she recalled the size of the two animatronics that she had just encountered, she realized they too could fit inside. It was as if the vent was meant to be crawled into, but Jessica didn't have time to ponder that. She bent down and crawled into the vent. She turned around, watching with fear as the two fox animatronics approached the vent. She looked forward again, seeing where the vent ended.

As she reached the halfway mark of the vent, a deep feminine voice echoed something: "Motion trigger: entryway vent." Jessica's blood froze as her anxiety reached tenfold, but she ignored it. She knew by now that William Afton knew where she was, but that didn't matter to her. Her goal was to run, not hide. The sound of something stomping on a metal surface echoed behind her. Jessica turned her head around and saw the silhouette of a fox-shaped animatronic crawling through the vent. She turned forward and crawled faster, wanting to reach the end of the vent as quickly as possible.

Eventually she reached the end of the vent. She crawled out of the vent and studied her surroundings. She was in a small room which was illuminated with dim yellow lights. There were screens on the ceiling and forward walls, and there was a large fan ahead of her. Below the fan, there was a vent large enough to crawl into, and there were glass panels on the left and right sides of the room. There were vents below the glass panels, and two drawers were lined up against the forward wall.

Jessica was unsure of where to go. She could go either left, right, or forward. She sighed and attempted to look out both windows, but everything beyond the glass was too dark to see. She looked down and noticed a panel attached to both walls, with a blue button on the top marked with a sun-shaped symbol, and a red button on the bottom marked with a lightning bolt symbol. She looked to the right and pressed the blue button, and a flash of light followed in that room. She pressed the button again and held it down. Now, she could see outside of this 'control room.' The floor was covered in black and white tiles and the walls had a similar checkered pattern, encased with red stripes on both sides. There was a large stage in the corner but it was unoccupied.

A feminine voice echoed from behind her. "Motion trigger: entryway vent." Jessica realized she was low on time, but for now she had to figure out a way to escape this facility. She ran over to one of the drawers and opened it. Inside there were various blueprints for certain things, such as animatronics and other devices. She took the blueprints for the animatronics, hoping to be able to exploit a weakness, and she also took what appeared to be a floor plan for the facility. _'Just what I was looking for,_ ' she thought to herself as she had a little victory moment. She turned around and looked at the vent, and she watched in absolute fear as the orange-painted fox animatronic from before crawled out from the vent. The animatronic stood up and moved to the side, allowing the other pink-painted fox animatronic to crawl out too.

Jessica turned around and ran toward the vent to her right. She bent down and crawled inside, narrowly avoiding the attacks from the animatronic behind her. She crawled out just as quickly, looking around but realizing she couldn't see; the room she was standing in had no lights at all. _'Hopefully the animatronics can't see in the dark,_ ' she thought to herself. She watched as an animatronic crawled out of the control room vent, but she was still. The animatronic looked around as if it couldn't see, and it seemed that Jessica's theory had been confirmed. Jessica sat down on the floor and waited for the animatronics to leave, but they never did.

"You cannot hide forever," William Afton's voice echoed around her, presumably from a sort of loudspeaker. Jessica bolted up in attempt to run, but it was too late. The room lit up in bright white, and to Jessica's horror, the pink-painted fox animatronic bolted toward her. She tried to run away from it and get out of the way, but it was too late. The animatronic struck her down with intense force, and to her it felt as if she was hit by a car. She fell down and rolled over. She looked up at her attacker, who was standing over her like a vulture waiting for its prey to die. The animatronic lifted up a leg as if it were about to stomp on her, and Jessica finally found the energy to stand up at that moment. She jolted up and broke into a sprint, making a sharp turn to the left as she ran into yet another room. She slammed the metal door shut behind her, and she locked the door. She was in some sort of office room, with monitors scattered atop of the desk. There was a plush of Fredbear as she remembered it, but where there was supposed to be eyes was replaced with black holes. There were two doors and a vent, with buttons that could control whether they remained open or closed. She closed the doors, and she sighed as she placed the blueprints down on the desk.

_'I'm safe... for now.'_

* * *

The rings of a phone echoed throughout Jessica's house. John stood up and ran toward the phone. He picked it up and checked the caller ID: it was Clay Burke. He pressed the talk button and answered it, expecting the worst.

"Hello?" John spoke into the phone nervously.

"John, you have to bring Charlie and Marla now. Circus Baby's Pizza," Clay frantically said. His voice seemed to carry a sense of urgency, but of course the message itself was urgent. Clay was in a hurry.

"Why though? What's wrong?" John said, taking a note of Clay's mental state.

"Carlton was captured," Clay finally said. That was all he said, and it took awhile for John to take it all in.

"Circus Baby caught him?" John asked.

"Yes," Clay said. "I heard it all on his walkie-talkie. She chased him down to some sort of underground facility, and then the walkie-talkie was destroyed. I heard some sort of fight go on before that though."

"Alright, I'm coming over as quickly as I can," John said as he hung up the phone. He then turned around to face the others who were sitting down. They seemed to be semi-aware of the situation, but the looks on their faces indicated they did not know much.

"Charlie, Marla, Carlton was captured," John said.

Their eyes widened in unison, but Charlie was the first one to respond. "What are we going to do?" she asked in a clear state of shock. She stood up from the couch, and so did Marla.

"We are going to Circus Baby's Pizza, which was where Carlton was at when he was captured. Clay has a few weapons in his car that we are going to use to bust inside," John said. "We don't have any time to waste, so we need to go now."

"Alright," Marla said. "What should we bring?"

John crossed his arms. "You aren't bringing anything. We don't have time for that." John turned around and walked out the door, gesturing the others to follow. Charlie and Marla walked out of the door, and John locked the door shut. The sun was now fully in the sky, lighting up the entire apartment complex.

"Just so you know, it's my car so I'm driving," Marla said. John sighed and nodded. She walked to her car and got in. John took the passenger seat, and Charlie sat in the back. They belted in and Marla backed out of the parking lot.

"Do you know where Circus Baby's is?" John asked as he looked out the window.

"I'm sorry but I don't," Marla said. She sighed and looked down at the wheel.

"Then maybe it's best if I drive," John said.


End file.
